


Killing Adam and Eve

by Owenjones



Series: Ineffable Assassins [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Assassins, Aziraphale is Eve, Crowley is Villanelle, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Killing Eve AU, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Possessive Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-07-25 14:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owenjones/pseuds/Owenjones
Summary: Ezra Fell really likes assassins, far more than any of his coworkers think is healthy. But his obsession comes in handy when investigating the newest psychopathic contract killer Anthony.What happens when these people from two opposing worlds find some ineffable connection?





	1. Chapter 1

Ezra was neck-deep in a book on the intimate lives of the most famous serial killers throughout history. Fascinating personalities, the lot of them. Some always seemed to be on the fence between good and evil. Minds like that drew him in the most, more than anyone on either extreme. It only took the wrong nudge to cause the most heinous acts, and likely the right nudge would do just the opposite. It was all in the influences, Ezra had always said. 

His phone rang and broke him out of the spell he had been drawn into. He warily dragged his mind away from the literature to answer it. 

The monotonous voice of Uriel met him, shouting a curt, “Get over here, ASAP,” before hanging up. His head throbbed at the sound. He still had a bit of a hangover from the night before, and his coworkers always made one worse. But, he supposed that sociopathic killers don’t take the weekends off. 

Ezra carefully marked his spot with a bookmark, and placed the book on his desk with great care. He would be coming back to that one. He grabbed his coat and headed out to the tube station. Within a few minutes, he was outside the MI5 building. 

He headed up to his boss’ office to find the whole team deep in conversation, which lulled as soon as he tapped a little knock on the door. A folder was promptly shoved in his hands, full of particularly disturbing images and descriptions. A woman found dead face-down on a side-walk. She had been assassinated publicly, yet no one had seen it happen. He thought that it was rather amazing. The rest of the office stood watching in silence as Ezra digested the information. 

“Well?” Prompted Uriel.

“Well… I should say, this person has quite a flair for the dramatic. What a scene!” He said with a little more excitement than he intended, “That is to say, obviously a sociopathic personality, but another side that’s also sly and creative--”

His prattle cut off by a cough from Gabriel.

Ezra continued, “Yes-- well, I’ll have a look through the records, see if there are any similar cases.”

“Be quick about it. We have strict orders from the top to get this cleared up without a fuss. Have your report ready to present at the next meeting.” And Gabriel shooed Ezra away with the necessary papers. 

He made his way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways over to his closet of an office, perhaps the only cluttered room in all of MI5. Stacks of folders, papers, reports filled every inch of the desk. Books about forensic psychology, patterns of serial killers, history of criminal organizations, etc littered the ground in messy piles. A clunky computer perched on his desk, which gave him access to the digitized crime records. 

His office neighbor, Shadwell, brought him a cup of cocoa, and Ezra read the briefing much more carefully. Something about the arrogant bombast of the whole affair just compelled him. There was almost no question about it being an assassination -- the victim was a very famous incendiary political writer. But this was not your average sniper-rifle-to-the-head type of assassin. This was an artist, whose medium was blood and bodies. And Ezra was going to catch them. 

***

Agnes, though almost clairvoyant in economic and political events, did not foresee her own demise. She was highly paranoid which meant she was never alone, and in public as often as possible. She sought safety in numbers. Anthony found it almost too easy to get through that defense. 

Back in his flat, Lucy was already waiting for him. 

“Very well done, darling. You deserve a commendation for that job” She ruffled a hand through his hair as a parent would. Anthony loved the contact, but she soon took her hand away. She pulled a stack of bills out.

Anthony took them smirked up at her, “Give me something a bit tougher next time, yeah?”

“If you say so,” She reached into her purse and pulled out a USB drive, “Your next job is all set to go. It should be more to your liking, I presume.” 

He snatched the little drive out of her hand, or he tried to. But the woman held it playfully out of his reach. 

“That’s not fair! You’ve got high heels on!” He yelled while trying to wrestle Lucy’s arm closer to him. 

“Don’t fuck it up.” She hissed before finally relenting, handing it over, and strutting out of the flat.

He called out after her, “Stay! Watch a movie with me!” But she was already gone. And Anthony was alone and bored once again.

***

Hours of research had led Ezra to a few conclusions that _fascinated_ him to no end. Her death was almost painless. While the first autopsy was rather inconclusive, they had narrowed down the true cause of death to some obscure kind of toxin. Not the usual fair, that was the only certainty. Something that was quick, but had a slight delay, allowing the assassin time to leave the scene. There was also morphine found in her bloodstream, extraordinary amounts of morphine! 

The morphine was of particular interest to Ezra. It was completely unnecessary for the assassination, the poison would have done its job anyway. It could only serve one purpose. No matter how horrible or depraved the public execution looked from the onset, the assassin didn’t want the victim to suffer. 

“There may be some good in you, yet.” He mumbled to the report. 

His research continued as he cross-referenced the case with any other case involving assassination via poisoning. What he found was particularly interesting. One previous assassination had some striking similarities, though it was a case that had never been closed due to lack of any compelling leads. A toxin sourced from a deadly snake had been identified as the cause of death of this politician. 

The victim was in public like the current case. But, what was most remarkable was the presence of an eyewitness. Someone had seen a person leading the victim away from the street to a private residence. The suspect: a woman! Something quite rare, though not unheard of, in Ezra’s field of study. She was described as having red hair, dark clothes, sunglasses, and a Scottish accent. Cheekbones, quite slender, taller than Ezra. He filled in all the blanks with his imagination. Her hips swayed with a purpose as she marched towards her mark. A low voice whispering in the man’s ear, the unimaginable temptation he would have had to resist, and his inability to do so. She seduced the victim, whisked him away, and the next time he was seen he was stone cold in an alleyway, veins full of poison and painkillers.

It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start. 

Before he knew it, Shadwell was in his office, loudly informing him he was late to the meeting. He gathered all his scattered notes and ran over to the conference room. He ignored the glares from all his coworkers as he settled into his usual spot. 

“So glad you decided to join us, Ezra.” Gabriel spoke, “Since you’re our assassin expert, would you care to discuss your findings?” 

He cleared his throat, “She doesn’t want to be -- well, she doesn’t want her victims to suffer. That’s for sure, given the whole… well, administering painkillers with the poison. Spoonful of sugar and all that… Perhaps not as much of a sociopath as I first thought. Just absolutely fascinating.”

“She?” Questioned Sandy in a disdainful voice.

“Oh yes, quite a good discovery, If I do say so. There was another similar case with an eyewitness account, describing a woman who seduced the victim. There are a number of similarities: the publicity, the morphine, the injection site -- I’m quite certain these cases are done by the same people. In fact, I recommend you run some tests for snake venom--”

Gabriel interrupted, “One problem: there’s also a description of this assassin. _He_ is most certainly not a woman.” 

“He, she, they, whatever. I’m certain these cases are done by the same people. Let me guess the description: tall, thin, dark clothes--”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Ezra.” Gabriel chided.

“Just--please, run the tests.”

Gabriel hesitantly nodded in Michael’s direction and she left to go make the call. Ezra breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how much they disliked him, they couldn’t deny that his intuitions were often accurate. 

“Who was the witness? Can I speak to them?” Ezra asked.

Gabriel looked down at the file, “Agnes’ niece. Woman by the name of… Ana Device. And no, you can’t speak to her. She’s extremely traumatized by the whole ordeal. Practically incoherent.”

“But if she’s incoherent, how can you rely on her description--”

“It’s off-limits! Besides, she’s in France. We both know how atrocious your French is.” 

Ezra huffed at the comment, despite its accuracy. 

***

Anthony woke up from his nap feeling rather refreshed. It was time to do his next job. He packed light: a wig, a few outfits, a British passport, some toiletries. Everything was already set up for him, which he loved. The paperwork was always the most tedious part of the job, and with his new promotion, he never had to worry about it again. Lucy booked all his flights, filled out all the paperwork for him. It was lovely. 

After a quick flight across the channel, he found his hotel room and prepared. He grabbed the file and skimmed it for the most important details: the mark was cavalier about security, distant from his family, and he had a weakness for blondes. Anthony began to unpack all his supplies. Inside the bottle of lotion was concealed a few important vials and some syringes. Inside his shampoo was a sharp knife. And inside his hair gel bottle was hair gel -- he never left home without it. 

Anthony put on some music, as he always did. Though his phone was on shuffle, it always seemed to land on Queen, not that he minded much. He danced around the room singing _don’t stop me now, ‘cause I’m having a good time,_ styling her wig and applying makeup all the while. 

A plan was forming in her head. One that was starting to sound like fun.

***

Thaddeus Dowling found a note on his desk from one of his closest coworkers. It thanked him for his recent work said happy birthday and hoped he enjoyed the surprise present waiting for him. Politics was a boys club; he knew what this note implied.

He retired to his room, dismissed the secret service without even a thought. Sitting at his personal desk, he found a tall blonde woman in a black dress and sunglasses, with an amazing figure. She sat cross-legged, expecting him. 

“Hi,” He said, “Are you my surprise?” 

“I am.” She responded, standing up.

Thaddeus quickly approached his desk where he flipped his family portrait down. The woman stiffened a little at that.

“They won’t be back for a few hours.” He then reached out to touch her waist and bring her closer to him. 

“You know, you shouldn’t touch people without asking.” She said.

He looked confused.

The woman looked down at the flipped picture frame and continued, “Do you think it’s okay to cheat on your wife? To leave her raising her kid all on her own while you go off and fuck hookers? How could you do that to your kid? To your wife?”

“Is this some kind of joke?” He asked, pulling away. But she got closer. And she placed a hand on his lapel, pushing until he felt the wall hit his back.

“To me, it seems like they’d be better off if you were dead.”

Before fight-or-flight could even kick in, he felt a stabbing in his neck, and a cool rush of relief flew to his head. He just… drifted off. 

***

Ezra went into work a bit earlier than usual, he thought that would be appropriate given the urgency of the case. He was surprised to find the rest of the team already present. Gabriel quickly filled Ezra in on all the details. Toxicology report had come in overnight -- he reluctantly admitted that Ezra was on the money about the snake venom. No other leads had been uncovered. Given the public nature of the killing, it would be impossible to pinpoint a DNA sample. The meeting was soon dismissed, hardly furthering the case at all. 

Ezra, however, had been anxiously waiting for the end of the meeting. The night before he had hatched a plan that was about to unfold.. As soon as he was out of Gabriel’s sight, he waited along the hallway. He grabbed the intern Newt by the arm and pulled him into a nearby supply closet. The man protested a bit before Ezra shushed him.

“Newt, how good is your French?”

“Um, quite good. I spent a year on an exchange in Paris--”

“Come to France with me,” Ezra whispered urgently and quite close.

“What?” Newt thought this sounded quite like a confession; one he wasn’t prepared for. He suspected that Ezra was gay, but he hadn’t expected anything like this, “Mr. Fell-- I, well, I like you but--”

“We’re going to question a witness. She only speaks French, you see. And I’m a bit out of practice.”

“Oh!”

“Gabriel doesn’t want me there, but for the sake of this case, I just have to speak to her. Hence the secrecy.” He finally let go of the intern’s arm, “So, what do you say?”

“Of course,” Newt mentally scolded himself for his assumptions.

***

Another job well done. Anthony headed home, rather pleased with herself. She flopped on the couch and turned on some TV. Soon enough, Lucy showed up. Anthony smiled up at her, anticipating her sweet praise, but saw her face was just glum.

“There’s a problem.”

“What? Not possible.”

“Yes. You fucked up.”

Anthony used all her efforts to stop herself from saying anything. 

“Agnes’ niece. She’s in hospital. The police are waiting for her recovery so that they can question her…” She slowly began to smile, “but accidents happen all the time at hospitals, don’t they?”

Anthony nodded.

Lucy tossed her an envelope, “Ticket to France. Needs to be done by tomorrow.”

“First class?”

“Always, Anthony.”

***

“You lied to her,” Newt whispered.

“Yes, well. How else were we going to get in? They’re only letting family in.” 

“I’m starting to think this isn’t a good idea. This feels so wrong. We didn’t even bring flowers or anything.”

“Hush now.” 

They reached the correct room and saw a young woman lying in bed with a blank look on her face. The nurse doting over the woman spotted the pair standing at the doorway, and she approached Ezra. 

In a most British accent, he began “Um, je suis, erm je suis ici avec le cousin d’Ana. Pour visiter, for a visit.” He gestured towards Newt who waved. 

“Oui monsieur, I’ll let you know when she’s ready for visitors.” 

“Keep an eye on her, Newt. I need to use the loo.”

Ezra walked down the hallway until he found a bathroom. He began to preen himself in the mirror. First, he adjusted his shirt, trying to flatten out the wrinkles. Then he tried flattening and styling his hair a bit. It always managed to look far too unkempt no matter how much he tried to tame it. Suddenly he heard a voice to his side,

“Keep it messy like that.” 

He turned and saw a nurse staring right at him. He must have just come out of the stall, as Ezra was sure the bathroom had been empty before. The nurse quickly adjusted his scrubs and left the bathroom. But not before shooting Ezra a last glance. 

Ezra was quite unsure of what to do with himself then. He experimented with fluffing his hair up a little in the mirror and found he began to like it. His curls eagerly bounced out in all directions. It wasn’t quite the dress code he was expected to keep at MI5, but that didn’t matter at the moment, he supposed.

He nodded one more time in the mirror, hair looking light and fluffy, and he finished his business in the bathroom. When he left, the hospital seemed rather quieter than before. He headed down the hallway and spotted something that made his heart stop. A trail of blood on the ground led into the girl’s room. 

“Newt?” 

Ezra crept up to the room and gasped when he peered inside. Blood everywhere. The nurses, security guards, the witness all lay on the floor in an enormous pool of blood. 

“No! No no no!” He ran over and found Ana breathing, ever so slightly, “stay with me, come on, stay with me.” The words poured out of his mouth like blood was pouring out of her wounds. But was too out of it to even notice him. Drugged. And then she was gone.

He heard a shout by the door. Ezra looked up and saw a very pale Newt had just come back, holding onto some flowers he had bought. 

***

_Another one bites the dust! _Anthony hummed the whole way home.


	2. Chapter 2

Ezra was barely aware of the journey home. He just stared at the blood trapped under his fingernails for most of the train ride. Though he had washed his hands several times, there was still a bit he wasn’t able to get out. When he had returned to the office, he had gotten a very strong scolding from Gabriel. He tried to listen, he really did, but if you had asked him later what his boss had said, Ezra would have been unable to answer. He was only really aware of the anger and the blame, which were both so very palpable in the air around him. He vaguely heard _Poor Newt_ and _This is your fault_ and _You little disobedient-._

At the end of the boss’ screed, Ezra finally said, “So. I’m fired then?”

Gabriel sneered, “No. Orders from the very top to keep you around. They don’t care what I think about it.” 

“Oh. Well, then-”

“You will not step a toe out of line again, Ezra.”

“Yes, sir.” He mumbled.

“I mean it. Now take the rest of the day off. I can’t stand to look at you any longer.”

Ezra returned to his home and his mind had finally caught up to all that had happened. He paced around his room and tried to connect the dots: thought through every step of the day, every interaction, every face he saw. His mind settled on the attractive nurse in the bathroom. Something was rather odd about that whole event, wasn’t it? Where had he disappeared to? He wasn’t among the bodies discovered that day. A thought struck him since he left the bathroom a few minutes before Ezra, the nurse might have seen the killer and had a chance to escape. But if that was the case, why hadn’t he contacted the police? Ezra knew he had to speak to that man.

He jumped into his chair and pulled up a file from the police report, containing pictures of all the nurses who were on duty at that time. He filtered through each one looking for the familiar face. But it never appeared. 

_Keep it messy like that._ And the implicit, _I like it like that._ He instinctively touched his hair, not sure whether he wanted to fluff it up or tamper it down. He closed his eyes and that face was conjured up without any effort. red hair, brown eyes so light they were almost golden. A sarcastic smile, a French accent when he spoke, a voice of cool confidence. He certainly was quite tall and slender with such good cheekbones, and he walked out of the bathroom with a swagger. And he had sunglasses hanging in the pocket of his scrubs. 

It couldn’t be.

The next day he tried to describe the nurse to Sandy to get a drawing done.

“Mmm. Slim figure, about shoulder-length red hair… Lovely, round, honey-colored eyes that looked practically right through me. Right down into my soul, for just a second. Something almost catlike about his eyes too, I think… Quite a sharp look about his face, but a sort of softness concealed below, barely visible-”

Sandy glared at him, “Christ’s sake, Fell.” 

A knock interrupted the eyewitness drawing. Uriel’s head popped in, “Another death. Get to it.”

“Right then, go. I don’t think this is going anywhere.” Mumbled Sandy at the almost blank paper in front of him, “Tell me when you’ve finished writing your poem about him, and maybe I could glean a description from that.”

Ezra tried to ignore that comment as he ran off to his office to read the new briefing. Contract kill for sure. An American cultural attache found dead in his room. He flipped the page and was greeted with a gruesome picture. He was castrated and hanging from a tie around his neck. A message was scrawled along his bare chest in lipstick. _Fucker_. Ezra was slightly ashamed that his first thought was at how impressive that was. 

He brushed the thought away as he stuck the picture to his corkboard. 

***

“You were meant to make it look like an accident.” A harsh voice drawled, “An unfortunate mix-up with the medicines. A suicide, even. Not _this._” She pointed to the newspaper headline in front of her. _French Hospital Slaughter Leaves Five Dead. _

“Perhaps they all tripped and landed on a syringe. They leave all kinds of shit lying around hospitals.” He spread out on the couch as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

Her tone softened, “You need to be more careful, Anthony.” Lucy placed a caring hand on his cheek.

“Relax. I’ve got it under control.” He swatted her hand away. She shot him a disapproving look. 

“MI5 are onto you, did you know that?”

“Not possible.”

“They have an expert on your case.”

“So?”

“He’s an _Expert_. He could catch you.”

“Stop worrying so much! I won’t get caught. I just want to get on with my next job.” 

Lucy sighed, “Take a break. A day or two. Lay low and blow some steam. I’ll tell you when you can start working again.”

“Fine by me. Who’s this expert by the way?”

“Why’d you want to know?”

Anthony shrugged.

“Some guy called Ezra Fell. You know, he’s caught other assassins before. He’s quite good at his job.”

“Ezra Fell.” He repeated.

“Promise me you’ll be careful, my boy?”

“Yeah, course.”

The first thing he did when she left was google the name Ezra Fell. He wasn’t hard to track down. He graduated with honors in forensic psychology. Wrote a few papers on psychopaths. Listed as one of London’s top experts in assassins, serial killers, and spree killers. Blah blah blah. He clicked on a link to find a facebook picture of some kind of a work function. A group of people smiling at the camera, but one face stood out. His hair like a halo, packed in a stuffy suit. Looking quite uncomfortable to be around the other investigators, despite the polite smile on his face. _Him_. The man with the amazing curls in the bathroom, fretting over his reflection. He quickly shut his laptop.

***

Ezra rushed through the crowds to the coffee shop. His boss - not Gabriel, rather the _boss_ boss - had requested a lunch with him. He’d never actually spoken to her before, outside of a few pleasantries at work. He didn’t even think she knew of his existence, so the invitation had come as a complete shock. But right now he had to focus on not being late. 

He peered into his reflection in a few shop windows to make sure he looked presentable. He did, though only barely. With a final tug on his scarf, he marched into the small cafe, trying not to seem as nervous as he was. 

She was already there, sat at a table in the farthest corner of the room. He placed himself down in the chair across from her, and she handed him a hot drink. He stared down at it.

“Cocoa. For you.”

“How did you know-”

“Do you know why you’re here, Ezra Fell?”

“No, Ma’am.” He responded dutifully.

“Just Frances, please,” She smiled at him. Ezra nodded and took a sip of his drink, and had to hold back a moan at how good it tasted. 

She waited for him to put the drink down and continued, “You’ve been doing rather a lot in your time working for us. It hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

Ezra wasn’t sure whether this was leading to a promotion or a firing. It seemed it could go either way.

“Your ideas are different, sometimes highly unusual. And you don’t always listen to your superiors. Most recently with your little trip to France. You might have thought that would fly under the radar, but it hasn’t. Gabriel’s told me all about it. Yes, he certainly dislikes you a great deal.” She tilted her head slightly, “Though you’ve worked with us for a few years now, you don’t quite fit in with the rest of them, do you? You have your fixations that no one quite understands.”

He blushed at this comment. It was true, he never really fit in. 

“But that’s exactly why I’ve ordered that you be kept on board and given more freedom to pursue any leads you come across. Gabriel doesn’t understand what an asset you are. I do.”

His eyes widened, this was the first time that anyone had complimented him at his job, “T-thank you.” 

“I want you to know that I appreciate the dedication you have for your work, the lengths you’ll go for a case.”

His face changed to a look of determination, “This new assassin, they’re outsmarting everyone. But, I promise I’ll stop them. I’ll put everything I have into stopping them.”

She started laughing, “I know you will. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of me in future.”

He finished his cocoa with a grin.

At work, he brought his office neighbor, Shadwell, a tea. “Nine sugars,” Ezra confirmed.

Shadwell barely looked up, “I’m surprised to see you’re still with us.” 

“You heard Gabriel yesterday?”

“Hard not to. What are you looking so giddy about?”

“It’s rather confidential,” Ezra was barely able to contain himself, “Well, if you must know, the _boss_ boss invited me to lunch. Said I’m doing a terrific job. I might be on my way up the ladder, as it were. It’s all quite fantastic.”

“Oh, that’s good, then. Gabriel is a right bastard, isn’t he?” Shadwell laughed.

Ezra smiled brightly, “Absolutely.”

***

Anthony boarded the train to Scotland for his next job. He wasn’t technically supposed to be going yet, but he decided he’d had enough of laying low. Besides, they liked how much he took the initiative, didn’t they? He wasn’t feeling nervous at all. Definitely not. 

The train was taking far, far too long, so he initiated a card game with the man sitting across from him. Anthony won every game. He cheated, of course, but when the man accused Anthony of foul play, he just laughed. The redhead gestured towards the bathroom with a half-smile, and when he walked in that direction, the stranger followed. 

He was buttoning up his shirt as he arrived in Edinburgh early in the evening. He made it to Princes street and got tempted to stop in one of the high-end shops. He bought some new clothes that fit his figure perfectly. 

But he could only be distracted for so long, as he had a job to do. Nearby was the office of a millionaire CEO of a cosmetics company: his next target. He sauntered up to the receptionist’s desk, whistling a phrase from Killer Queen, and introduced himself. He couldn't just get a meeting with her, of course, he had to be invited. Luckily, he had everything set up, the man supposed to be meeting that day had met with a little accident. And with the right lies, he managed to convince her he was the replacement. He was on his way up to see Mary Loquacious. He got changed in the elevator.

She looked far too excited to see him enter her office dressed as a dominatrix nun.

***

When Ezra walked into the meeting, he could tell something was wrong. People who usually glared at him for his tardiness were all avoiding his gaze. 

“What’s wrong?” He said.

“There’s been another killing.” Frances supplied, “In Scotland.”

“Right, I heard about that. I was going to as if I could be sent up there. A business trip, as it were…” He trailed off. 

“He gave a name to the receptionist.”

“Yes?”

“Ezra Fell.” 

He looked wide-eyed at his boss, “I - oh dear. That’s, well, that’s-” 

“You’re going on that business trip.”


	3. Chapter 3

With the plane tickets already booked, he knocked on Shadwell’s office. As a precaution, he was brandishing a tea made just the way his coworker liked it, “Hello.”

“Aye? What d’you want?” He gruffed. 

“Well, I was wondering… perhaps your expertise could come in handy on my next assignment. Would you care to show me around Edinburgh?”

“No. Don’t leave this desk. Not even for you Ezra.”

“Oh please, I need your contacts, your knowledge of the city. If you’re worried about the killer, I doubt they stuck around-”

“No. Not afraid, just not interested.”

“How about this… I’ll buy you a drink in whatever pub you like best.” 

Shadwell thought about it, “Oh, alright then.”

They left immediately and flew up to Scotland in no time. Shadwell was in his element, and he was the happiest as Ezra had ever seen him. “Great to get away from all those southerners.” He said, “No offense.” 

Ezra hummed. 

Shadwell, as grumpy and unassuming as he seemed, was one of the most well-connected people that Ezra knew. He had the phone numbers of people all across the UK, and most of them owed him a favour or two. Upon arriving in Scotland, he got in contact with one of his old friends who knew the victim. The woman showed up at the pub when they were half way through their first pint. 

The pair stood up to meet the visitor. Shadwell and his friend greeted each other warmly as Ezra stood off to the side and waited to be introduced properly. He noticed that Shadwell’s accent has only gotten stronger as they arrived in the country. Stronger still when he took his first sip of alcohol. Now, with the arrival of his old friend, Shadwell was practically incomprehensible to Ezra; he couldn’t even pick out a name from the conversation. He started to wonder if he drank more than he realized, or maybe the alcohol was stronger up here. 

The two people turned to Ezra, and he heard something vaguely resembling an introduction. He held out his hand to shake, and said, “Pleasure to meet you…”

“Tracy.” She confirmed.

They sat down at the booth, and Ezra noticed the older woman giving him a once over. He tried to brush this out of his mind, “How are you?”

Luckily she took her accent down a notch, “I’m fine, now that I’ve met you,” She _winked._

Ezra flushed slightly, “We’re here strictly on business, right? Shadwell?” But they were already hysterical about some inside joke that they didn’t care to explain. He cleared his throat to get their attention, but it didn’t work. Finally, he raised his voice, “I want to ask you about Mary.” 

They fell silent. The woman coughed, “Right to the point, I see.”

“Yes,” Ezra beamed, “Can you tell us about her?”

“What do you want to know?” 

“Anything, really.”

“I guess, she had a fascinating life. Did you know she used to be a nun? Wasn’t cut out for that life though. She wasn’t exactly chaste, you see.”

“Chaste?”

She began to lean in closer, “Yes, she liked her gentlemen callers, that’s for sure. This next bit better stay between the three of us. Personality was a bit much for a few boyfriends, so she found it easier to pay for that sort of company. Plus she had very specific interests that would put most men off.” 

“Oh dear.” 

“Quite. But that better not leak to the media. I’ve got stocks in her company, and they’re falling fast enough without a scandal like this.”

“You don’t have to worry about that Ms. Tracy. We will be perfectly discreet.”

“Such a coincidence about the name though, right Ezra Fell?” She spoke his name very deliberately.

“Right, yes, coincidence.” 

“I’d better head off soon, it’s getting rather late. So good to meet you, Ezra. I’ll see you at our meeting tomorrow?” She hurried out of the pub. 

He breathed a sigh of relief that they would be finding their hotel room now. Ezra reached under the table, only finding empty space. “Uh, Shadwell? Have you seen my suitcase?” 

“Isn’t it there?” 

“No, it’s gone!” 

“You left it at the airport then.”

“I had it when I came into the pub, I swear I did. Someone must have taken it. Oh dear, all my clothes.”

***

He was walking away from the pub, dragging the suitcase behind him. It was an impulse, he couldn’t help it. He saw his chance as Ezra stood away from the table to meet that woman. He was vaguely considering killing her, the way she mentally undressed Ezra. But he was instructed to lie low. He’d broken enough rules recently that he couldn’t just kill whoever he wanted. 

But stealing the suitcase, well, that was hardly breaking the rules. 

Back in his hotel room, he rifled through the case. He lifted a shirt to his face and took a deep breath. He memorized the scent. He found a cologne that smelled divine. Just a whiff of it conjured up the image of Ezra in his head. He applied it on himself. He pondered whether people actually still wore bow ties as he hung one of his around his neck. It was all perfect, all so _Ezra_. But it wouldn’t hurt if he updated his fashion a bit, and Anthony knew he could help with that. 

“Anthony.” 

He jumped and swiveled around, “Lucy!” 

“What are you doing all the way up here?” She cupped a hand on his cheek. 

“I’m doing my job. If I had followed your rules, she would still be alive today.”

“What are you _still_ doing here?”

“I can’t rest for a day?”

“Nice bow tie.” She smirked, and began to tie it, “Where’d you get it from?”

“I bought it.” She cackled at that for a second before turning more serious. 

“Fell is here.”

“The _expert_?” 

“Yes.” She made the finishing touches on the bow tie, and rested a hand on his shoulder, “Lie low for tonight, but tomorrow I want you to keep an eye on him. He’s going to be meeting somebody.”

Fuck lying low. As soon as he was alone, he stormed over to the nearest club wearing one of Ezra’s scarves. Soon he was in an alley, running his fingers through a head of messy blond curls, tugging the stranger closer. Anthony was completely intoxicated with Ezra’s scent from his scarf. He shoved the man roughly against the brick wall and they kissed and kissed and kissed until it hurt. 

***

Ezra pushed various suit jackets aside, trying to find his size, “What does she like? If I’m going to be interviewing her alone, I was thinking of trying to catch her off guard.”

“You trying to seduce her?”

“No, no, no. Just need to make a good impression.” 

Shadwell laughed at his fluster. 

***

“Excuse me, Miss, are you looking for anything in particular?”

She hadn’t heard the shopkeeper approach, her hand instinctively grabbed for the weapon in her pocket, before settling down. 

“I’m just shopping for my boyfriend, trying to get him ready for a special date. You know how it is. I’ve got a few options picked out already.”

The worker looked sympathetic, “They just can’t dress themselves, can they?”

“What would they do without us?” 

Anthony peered back over the clothes racks. Ezra was out of the fitting room again, parading around in some new atrocious and ill-fitting outfit. Good lord, the man actually thought tartan was stylish. She looked down at the items in her arms, and she wished so badly that she could dress him up in any one of them herself. 

***

He tried on a few plain suit jackets. All neutral tones. He wasn’t so sure about any of them. He walked out of the fitting room, “Shadwell, what do you think-” But the man must have wandered off. Hanging outside his fitting room was a dark blue suit. He’d never normally go for something like that, but it looked quite comfortable. 

He took it into the fitting room, and surprisingly it brought out his eyes. It fit him perfectly, too. And the fabric was oh so comfortable. He walked out of the stall, chattering to Shadwell who had reappeared by then, “Not sure, is it too much? I think it might be too much for me. I’m not used to wearing something this colourful.”

“Leave the top buttons undone, you’ll look too stuffy otherwise.”

Ezra rolled his eyes, but undid a couple of buttons on his shirt. It honestly didn’t look half bad. He purchased the outfit and wore it out of the shop. 

“Now you’ll be getting off at the royal mile,” Shadwell explained as Ezra waited at the bus stop, “Number 300. Shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll be off now, good luck.” 

“Thanks, take care.” 

Shadwell turned to leave him behind, and someone caught his attention. Someone was wearing sunglasses, despite the ever-present overcast. _Flash bastard. _But Shadwell’s naturally paranoid mind also noticed that she seemed to be watching someone. He carefully turned and realized the woman’s gaze was pointed directly at Ezra. The bus had just stopped, and Ezra embarked, totally unaware. The woman began to make her way over as well. Shadwell changed course and ran straight into her, “Oh sorry lass, so sorry about that.” Now that he was face-to-face with her, he recognized the scarf as one of Ezra’s, “Sorry to bother you, where did you get that scarf?” 

“It was a gift.” The woman said in a Scottish accent, and tried to maneuver around Shadwell, who grabbed her arm firmly, “Hey-.”

The bus pulled away from the sidewalk, and Shadwell quickly let go, “Sorry to bother you.”

The woman brushed her coat angrily and stormed away in the other direction. He was honestly rather unsure about this assassin he was tasked with chasing, there seemed to be a lot of disagreement about whether the suspect was male or female. Ezra seemed to be playing safe and not referring to either gender, while most others were stuck on him being male. But with one look, he knew that this sketchy woman must have been the assassin. Shadwell let some distance grow between them before he followed, always keeping an eye on that long red hair among the crowd. 

***

“Wow! You’re looking quite handsome today.”

“Thanks.” He felt somewhat nervous under the gaze of the woman. 

“Have a glass of wine. You must try the appetizers.”

Ezra steeled himself against his own love of food, “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, I’m here on business” 

“Sure you are. Oh so serious, c’mon, loosen up.” She began pouring wine into his glass.

“Tell me more about Mary. Did you know where she usually hired sex workers from?”

“That’s no way to speak over dinner, darling.”

Ezra took a sigh, and glared at her, “I got this all wrong. If you don’t have any information for me, then I think I’ll be on my way.”

“No, don’t leave. I do have information. There was a private autopsy ordered by the family and I think you’d like to hear the results. But, let’s have a glass of wine first, okay? There’s a love.”

He drank, and found the wine tasted delightful, though he was careful not to show that on his face, “Why order a separate one? Surely the official autopsy should be enough?”

“That’s the thing. They don’t want to company to go under in the scandal. When the official report comes through, it’ll show that she wasn’t assassinated at all. It was all a misunderstanding. Rather tragic, really.” She swirled her glass, “She had a completely spontaneous heart attack, her death was most certainly not caused by an assassin disguised as a male prostitute performing a rather specific fetish.” 

“But- the examination is independent. How is that possible-” 

“Money, dear. Anything is possible with enough money.”

“Why do they want to stall the investigation? Surely they know that this won’t help us catch her killer?”

“I think they rather care more about the state of the company. You can’t bring her back, after all.”

“How monstrous…”

She hit his arm, “Hey, don’t you judge them. They’re in grief, for God’s sake.”

“Right, sorry, sorry. You said you could get me access to this private autopsy?”

“I certainly can,” She reached into her purse and pulled out a USB drive, “This, my dear Ezra, is for you.”

He carefully accepted it and held it as if it might explode. Remarkable how the key to this woman’s death fit so neatly on this little piece of technology. A sudden buzzing shook him out of his thoughts.

“Hang on, a phone call coming in. Must be important.” He took out his cellphone and saw Shadwell’s caller ID pop up, “Curious…” He mumbled. He flipped the phone open. 

“Ezra! Finally, you pick up!” Shadwell shouted over the phone.

“Sorry, I’m in the middle of the interview.”

“No time for that. I’ve found her. I’m following her.”

“What? Who?”

“The killer.”

“Where are you! Sorry, Ms. Tracy, I gotta go.”

“I’m on Victoria St. Wait, she’s entering a club. I’m going in.”

“I’m on my way!” Ezra shouted before the line cut out. 

***

Shadwell shoved his way through the crowds of young people, keeping an eye on the red hair. The sunglasses were still placed firmly over her eyes, even in the dark nightclub. Why the woman was in such a hurry to push through the crowds, he didn’t know. He just had to keep her in his sight, no matter what. Shadwell was starting to feel claustrophobic as bodies shoved against him. 

The music droned on, was so loud that he could hardly be sure what was an electronic drum beat and what was his pulse. The crowds swayed against him, but he just kept his eye on that hair. The killer stopped right in the center of the club and began to dance. Despite her enthusiastic movements, it wasn’t what anyone would call good dancing. 

Shadwell had her trapped here, now he just had to wait for Ezra, and they could get a hold of her.

Then the woman turned and looked straight at him raising her eyebrows above her sunglasses. She smiled sweetly and began to make a beeline for Shadwell. _Oh fuck._

He tried to back out the way he came, but the crowd had closed in tight. There was nowhere to go. The woman slithered through the nightclub patrons and pulled out a syringe in one hand, and a knife in the other, both of which were quickly thrust into Shadwell’s chest.

***

Ezra flew on his feet and threw himself past the bouncer. He shoved his way through the crowd. There were too many people around, it was packed full. 

Then, he saw a writhing that didn’t look like dancing. Shadwell’s eyes peered at Ezra over a shoulder before they glazed over. Ezra was pushing his way in that direction, but the people just _wouldn’t move_. The person that was pressed up against him slipped away, and Ezra saw a knife being pulled out of Shadwell’s chest.


	4. Chapter 4

“I am honored to be speaking here today. He was a great person, always hard-working. We, at his job, appreciated his presence and unique personality every day-” Gabriel solemnly delivered his eulogy.

_Bastard,_ Ezra thought to himself. Gabriel hated Shadwell and Shadwell hated him back. And now, Gabriel was pretending he thought otherwise. It was totally disrespectful. The tall man giving the speech moved his gaze around the room, before finally resting on Ezra. It was a glare that said, _I know what you’re thinking,_ and _this is your fault_. 

Ezra couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up in the middle of Gabriel talking about what an honourable man he was and such and such, and stormed out of the church. He felt a hundred eyes on him, but he didn’t care. 

He fumbled through his jacket until he found an unopened pack of cigarettes, and quickly lit one. He took a deep breath, and felt himself starting to cry. 

“I thought you’d given that up.” Said a voice to his side. It was Newt. 

“Yeah, well…”

There was an awkward silence, “Sorry, I’m not good with grief.”

“Nor am I, dear boy.” He took another deep drag of the cigarette, before deciding, “I’m going to kill them.”

***

A jolly piano began to play when Lucy opened the door. From the other room, she heard a singing, “_Seaside! Whenever you stroll along with me! _” Anthony appeared in the doorframe wearing only a sheer robe over his underclothes, posing dramatically. “_I’ll ask you to be my clementine!_ I love this song, doesn’t it just fill you with joy? Seaside Rendezvous!” He stretched out his hands, “Dance with me!” When she remained still, he began to dance on his own.

“This isn’t gonna work, Anthony. Or… is it Ezra now?” She began to tap her foot.

He slowed his spinning, “What’s not gonna work? I just want to dance with you.”

“You know how angry I am, Anthony. You used his name on the last job. Yeah, don’t think I don’t know about that. And I know what you did to that MI5 agent in the club. This is all attracting a bit too much attention for my liking. Why are you being so disobedient, my darling?”

“Aww am I in trouble?” he pouted. 

“Yes. I can’t trust you not to disobey anymore. You’ll have to work with your old friends from now on.” She got up to leave, and Anthony held onto her arm.

“Don’t leave! I got a gift for you…Open it before you go.” He pointed to an immaculately wrapped box on the table. 

She rolled her eyes but accepted it. She tore up the wrapping and opened up the box to find a little black and white dog stuffed animal, “How cute.”

“For your son.” 

Her face fell, her eyes shone with a hint of fear and a lot of anger.

“It’s hard being a single mom, isn’t it?” He smiled, “What, you think I don’t know anything about you?” 

***

A pair of sketchy men smoked on the edge of the train platform. Their whole essence screamed _‘we’re up to no good.’ _Menacing eyes peered around the empty station, waiting. 

“Do you trust ‘em?” asked Ligur.

Hastur replied, “Nah.”

“Good. Be a funny old world if assassins went ‘round trusting each other.”

He could recognize Hastur’s ugly face from a mile away. Ligur’s too. 

“Hey guys. What’s up.”

“You’re late.” Grumbled Hastur.

“Just had to run an errand really quickly. What’s the job, I didn’t get many details?”

“Excited, are we? Follow me to the car.”

Anthony shoved his hands into his pants pockets and sauntered after them towards what looked like the sketchiest van in existence, “Hotel tonight?”

“No. We sleep in the car.”

“Ngk.” Of course, “Hey, you still didn’t explain what the job was.”

Ligur shrugged, “Dunno yet.”

“You _ don’t know.” _

“Er, it’s someone connected to MI5. That’s all the information we’ve been given.”

Anthony frowned.

***

Ezra was startled out of his reading by a sharp knock. He put his book away. No one appeared to be standing at the door when he looked out the peephole. How curious. Finally, he opened the door to see his missing suitcase sat on the welcome mat. 

He looked down the hallway, but it was completely empty and silent. There wasn’t even a note on the case. He frowned, but pulled the luggage into his room, figuring the airport or someone must have delivered it. It did have his address attached, after all. 

At least he could get his clothes back.

He unzipped it, and opened it up. But- it wasn’t his clothes. The case was filled to the brim with elegant designer clothes, all completely new. He ran his hands along the fabric, and it felt quite expensive indeed. He checked the label on a silk shirt and it was exactly his size. He began to tremble. It had to be some kind of mistake.

Under some of the clothes was a gilded box from a company called _Antonia_. He opened it as if it contained a bomb. It didn’t, but the effect was rather the same to Ezra. It held a glass bottle in the shape of an apple encircled by a serpent, while the inside of the box contained glorious designs of Adam and Eve during the moment of temptation. It was a perfume. The whole presentation was absolutely gorgeous, and looked like it would cost a fortune. 

There was a note peeking out from under the bottle, Ezra picked it up. 

Sorry Angel  
XOXO

He felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

After panicking, pacing around his room, nearly fainting, and crying all at once, he pulled himself together just enough to pack everything tightly into a plastic bag, which he carried on the tube to his work. He cradled it in his arms the whole way, and must have looked crazed. 

“Ezra-What are you-?” Michael was taken aback. Not only was he supposed to be on leave, but he had also arrived at work with a mysterious garbage bag and bloodshot eyes. 

“Thousands of pounds worth of designer clothes.” He answered, before she even asked the question, “Get this to the lab as soon as possible. It’s from the killer. They- they know where I live.” 

She nodded sharply and took the bag, “I’ve got some news as well. I was on my way to call you, orders from the top. The USB that you got from Tracy, well it was rather interesting.” She leaned in close, “Do you know who carried out the paperwork for the official autopsy? He got rather a lot of money in exchange for that little cover-up.”

“Who was- It was Gabriel, wasn’t it?” 

“I’m afraid so.”

“They’ve got him in their pocket,” Ezra whispered.

“It rather looks that way.” 

“He’s on his vacation right now. You should-”

“I’ve already got my best people tracking him.” 

***

Anthony woke up with a slap to his face. 

“What the fuck was that for?”

“You wouldn’t wake up any other way.” Ligur looked positively delighted, and Anthony knew he hadn’t actually tried anything else before resorting to a minor assault. 

“Stop messing around you two. We’ve got a name.”

“Go on then, spit it out,” said Anthony.

“Gabriel Godwin,”

Anthony carefully contained his relief. They made their way out to Gabriel’s location. He was on vacation in the village of Tadfield at the moment, a perfect time to strike. The trio pulled up to a charming bed and breakfast.

“So, er, how are we going about this?” Anthony asked as he stepped out of the car.

“Shot to the head?”

_Typical._

Anthony reluctantly accepted the gun and silencer from Hastur, and put it in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. 

“You go in, find out which room he’s at.” Hastur pointed to Anthony, who nodded. 

He put on the affect of a nice tourist with a regional accent as he approached reception, “Excuse me, Ma’am. I was wondering if you could tell me where my friend was staying.” She eyed him suspiciously, “Name of Gabriel. I want to surprise him with a gift, you see.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t give out that kind of information.” She murmured.

“Oh please, it’s a birthday emergency!” He said sweetly, “I couldn’t bear to get him the gift late, I would never forgive myself if I did. I promise you, I’m not lying.”

She softened, “Alright then, but keep this between us.” She winked, “Room 202 is where he’s at. He should be in right now.”

“Oh really? That’s so kind of you. Thank you so much!” Anthony grinned, “You’re a real lifesaver. I’ll go get the gift now.”

He jogged back to the van, “Room 202.” 

They walked up to the door, Ligur overly eager to push his way to the front, while Anthony hung back. He was sort of embarrassed being with them. Their walks, voices, postures, and even their knocks were menacing. It was all rather too conspicuous. There was no art to it.

Gabriel didn’t answer the door. Ligur placed an ear to the wood, “Nothing.” 

“The lady said he was here.” 

“Well, I can’t hear anything.” 

Ligur was quickly shoved out of the way, and Hastur kicked the door down. Anthony shook his head. No subtlety. They were quickly inside, searching every corner of the small room.

“Not here.”

Anthony pointed to an open window. And they heard the sound of a car engine revving. 

Within a few seconds, Anthony shoved himself into the driver's seat of their van, and he was flooring it. Gabriel swerved around the tiny country roads, but Anthony was in close pursuit, going much faster than a car like this was ever expected to go. Meanwhile, Ligur unpacked a large gun, and quickly loaded it, while Hastur opened up the sunroof. 

“Shoot him! Do it now!” Hastur screamed. Anthony held the car steady as he could. Ligur lined up the shot. 

_Bang Bang Bang Bang! _

Gabriel’s car lost control for a second as his windshield exploded into shards. 

“Hit his tires, you imbecile!” 

Another round of shots were fired, and Gabriel swung his car without warning into a field. 

“Follow him! He’s getting away!” 

Anthony ground his teeth, he could _see_ that. His tires screeched on the road as he slammed on the brakes and quickly turned after him. 

***

“Funny. Gabriel is driving quite fast.” said Michael, examining her tracking device. 

Ezra kept his hands firmly on the wheel, “Do you think he knows we’re onto him?” 

“He shouldn’t. Unless you…”

He huffed, “No. I’m shocked you would even _imply_ such a thing.” 

“Then he shouldn’t know. Okay, we’re closing in on him, stop the car.”

He felt his phone ringing in his pocket, “One second.” The caller ID listed… Gabriel, “Michael, he’s calling me.”

“Well, pick up then!” 

“Right. Right.” He flipped the phone open, “Gabriel?”

“Ezra! Jesus Christ, thank the Lord, holy shit.” He sounded completely breathless and terrified.

“Gabriel, calm down. You don’t have to run.” 

“They’re gonna fucking kill me.”

“Wait, what? Who? What’s going on?”

“They’re s-shooting at me!”

“Oh dear oh dear oh dear! Who’s shooting at you? Oh dear, stay quiet and low and- and I guess stay calm.”

“Fuck you, Ezra.” He hissed. 

Suddenly Ezra heard a flurry of gunshots in the distance, and the line fell silent, “Gabriel? Are you there? Say something to me.”

“Shut your stupid mouth. I’m hiding.” 

Ezra breathed a sigh of relief, “Listen, you have to get out of there. We’re close by, just get out of there as soon as you can.”

***

Anthony checked out the car, which was now riddled with bullet holes. It was completely, totally empty otherwise. 

“Oh great job, Hastur. Shot up the car very nicely. Very nice, very subtle.”

“Shut up, Crowley.”

“Shot up the car, but where’s the man?”

“Shut the fuck up!” He pointed his gun at Anthony. He pointed one right back. And Ligur pointed one at him. Two guns trained on him, now. Two guns held by people who absolutely despised him. Unlike Anthony, they wore their thoughts plainly on their faces, and he saw that they were only moments from realizing that it would be hardly any trouble to shoot him and say he got killed on the job. 

“Why is this bastard even here?” Hastur shouted.

“Oh, I think _you_ know why, don’t you Hastur?” Anthony grinned widely. He had an idea. 

“What?”

“You know how much the bosses like me, you didn’t really think they’d put me on a little job like this, huh? That’s because this wasn’t my real job, of course. I was here to test _you_.”

Ligur shifted uncomfortably, “What’s he talking about?”

“You’re talking rubbish, Crowley.” 

“Are you ready to play with the big boys, Hastur? Because you’re about to be on your way up. I’m talking about a promotion. Everything you ever dreamed of. You’re going to be a very rich man, Hastur.”

“Promotion? You’re bluffing.”

“There’s just one thing you need to do for me, and I think you know what that is.”

They were held in the standoff while the gears turned in his head. All was silent for a moment. Hastur wasn’t easily trusting, but he was rather gullible. Anthony could see the idea taking root, and he knew what Hastur would do before he even moved. 

“What-” Ligur shouted before he was shot down by his partner-in-crime. 

Anthony threw his gun to the ground in delight, “Very good, Hastur. You’ve come through with flying colours!” He reached out to shake his hand, “I’ll get the car started, and we can get you back to collect your reward. Go check the boot, there’s a surprise for you.”

“I can’t wait. Everything I dreamed of.”

Anthony waited until Hastur was lined up behind the car, then floored it in reverse, then forward again for good measure. A few strangled noises and then silence. Anthony cringed. Then, he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. The mark climbed out of some nearby bushes and started running. He supposed he still had to finish the job.


	5. Chapter 5

“Just keep running, Gabriel. Come on.”

The man was whimpering on the phone, “He’s after me. He’s behind me.”

“Just keep running. I think I can see you-”

A gunshot, Ezra and Michael screamed. 

“Come on Gabriel, run faster!” 

“I’m running you fucking piece of-”

“I see you!” 

Gabriel was terrified, tears streamed down his face. He practically collapsed onto Ezra. 

“Get in the car!” Michael shouted, and grabbed Gabriel from Ezra “You, drive!”

The three of them frantically piled into the car, just as Anthony was coming into view, holding a pistol. Ezra stared at them.

“Drive!” Michael shouted, “Ezra!”

“Drive, you fucking idiot, just drive!” Gabriel added.

“Hold on!” Ezra held his hands up, “I’m thinking.” 

“Fuck you, he’s trying to kill me!” 

The two passengers continued to scream at him, but he just blocked them out. Ezra took a breath and stepped out of the car. He walked down the road, until he was a few feet away from … _them._ The assassin looked just as shocked as Ezra to be standing in front of each other. But only for a moment, before a smile returned. They held up a gun straight at Ezra. He began to raise a calming hand towards the killer, and pleaded with his eyes, “You don’t have to-”

_Bang!_

Anthony shot the ground next to Ezra’s feet, and took great delight in the man’s terrified squeal. The next moment, Ezra was back in the car, driving away as fast as he could. In the rear view mirror, he saw the assassin blowing a kiss. 

Gabriel insisted that they stop at a cafe, he was ravenous. Ezra supposed that near death experiences probably took a lot out of you. 

Michael sneered at Gabriel’s messy eating, “You’re in trouble, you know?”

He stopped. “Yes.”

Ezra chipped in, “How could you take a bribe? Help cover up an investigation?”

“Hey, hey, hey, you don’t know what I’m going through.” 

Ezra rolled his eyes. As if Gabriel didn’t make enough money already, “You still haven’t told us what happened with the assassins.”

Gabriel glared, “They tried to kill me.”

“I’m afraid we’re going to need more detail than that, dear.” Ezra chided. 

“There were three of them. Um… Crowley- one of them is called Crowley.”

“What happened to the other two?” 

“One of them was shot, I think.”

“They _shot_ each other? Were they arguing?”

“Not really. It happened all of a sudden.” 

The trio walked back to the car and prepared to continue their journey. Michael called someone back at the office and reported the finding about the name. 

“Shut up, you two. Get off the phone and get me to my safe house.”

They got there and found Frances waiting for them, a harsh blank look on her face, “Hello, Gabriel.”

“Ma’am…” He lowered his head. 

Ezra took a lot of satisfaction to see Gabriel so humbled. 

Later that day, Sandy knocked on Ezra’s office door, “There’s something you need to see.” And led him to his office. He tapped a few letters on his keyboard and unlocked the computer, “Sit.”

“What’s this?”

“I had a look through the prison records, I pulled up everyone by the name of Crowley. I just need you to -”

“That’s them.” Ezra pointed at one of the faces on screen. The same familiar face, but looking much younger and more naive. Almost innocent, in a way.

“He fits the physical description you gave, fits the psychological profile, and, he was even previously convicted of murder. There’s just one problem-”

“Problem?”

“He died in prison.”

The face on the screen never left his mind, the whole rest of the day. He found he couldn’t quite focus on anything else. Sandy had emailed the records to Ezra, so he had the photo ready to pull up anytime on his computer. His cursor kept finding its way to the file on his desktop, just begging to be opened up. 

That night, he opened up a bottle of wine. He drank glass after glass, until he had a strange urge. He pulled his suitcase out of the closet. The lab had returned all the clothes, they found plenty of DNA samples that they could match to the other crime scenes, which the assassin must have known would happen, arrogant bastard. 

He unzipped the case. God, those clothes were beautiful. He pulled out the Antonia-label perfume. He took a deep, deep breath. It was a very rich and feminine smell, a tiny bit flowery. Was this what they smelled like? He applied some to his neck. 

He began pulling out the pieces of clothes one by one. Each one looked more expensive than the last. One particular outfit was calling to him: a black suit with a complex embroidered design. He undressed, and slipped on the clothes. The pants were tighter than what he was used to, and accentuated certain features rather perfectly. The jacket and shirt were made of a light material and insanely comfortable. He looked at himself in the mirror, and ran his hands through his hair, undoing all the work he had done to tame it that morning. He looked-

He downed another glass of wine. 

This was silly. He began to move to his kitchen to wash his glass, when he heard a small noise by the door. He instinctively went to check it out, but the passage to the door was empty and silent. He walked over, and carefully examined the front door. He locked it, he must have forgotten to do that earlier. When he turned back towards the kitchen his blood ran cold.

There was a figure standing in the doorframe. Red hair. Honey-coloured eyes, “Don’t run.”

He took off. The glass in his hand shattered as he dropped it. At that moment, Ezra was sure he was going to die. 

“Don’t do that. I’m not going to hurt you, just- wait.” 

A hand caught Ezra’s shoulder and he flailed and screamed, “Get away from me!”

“Please, just listen-”

“Someone! Help me!”

“There’s no need to- Look, I’m not going to hurt you.” They grabbed Ezra’s shirt, “I’m. Not. Going. To. Hurt-”

But Ezra wouldn’t stop screaming. Finally, Crowley grabbed a cup from the counter beside them, and splashed whatever it held in Ezra’s face. Sputtering, he finally came to his senses.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I… want to have dinner with you.”

“What?”

“I just want to have dinner with you.”

The next thing he knew, Crowley was sitting politely at his dinner table, while Ezra searched through his rather empty fridge. 

“I’m not much of a chef…”

“I’ll eat anything, honestly.”

“I have some leftovers.”

Crowley nodded their approval, and Ezra moved to heat the take-out in the microwave. He shivered as he watched the box go round and round the microwave. 

“Sorry for getting your clothes wet.” Ezra jumped, feeling the voice right behind him. Their hands moved to Ezra’s chest causing the man to sigh, but then they peeled the jacket away, “Gotta let this dry.” He anticipated further exploration, but Crowley didn’t touch him again. Ezra turned around, and Crowley was across the room, hanging the jacket on the coat rack. 

He began to roll up his shirt sleeves, but found his hand was quivering. 

“Can I help?”

Ezra nodded, just barely. Crowley’s thin hands quickly unbuttoned the sleeves, and rolled them up in a neat, practiced fashion. Their skin brushed ever so slightly. 

“Thank you, dear.” 

“Food’s ready.” Crowley pointed to the microwave that had gone silent at some point, and they went to sit down again. 

Ezra served them. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Crowley said with their mouth full of curry.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Crowley.”

They coughed, “I - er - I go by Anthony now. At least, most days I do.”

“Anthony. Antonia. Of course. And - er, I’ve been wondering, what are your preferred pronouns?” 

They looked shocked to be asked this question, “Well. Depends. Most days it’s he, some days it’s she. Right now it’s more the former.”

Ezra nodded, his eyes flickering between his plate of food and his guest, “Um, also, why are you in my flat?”

“I wanted to see you” Ezra remained silent. And the silence between them began to be filled with a soft gasping. Anthony began to tear up, his makeup began to run. “Truth be told… I- I need your help, Ezra. I had nowhere else to go. I want to get out of this thing, but I can’t. Bad things will happen if I do. I didn’t mean to kill your friend and I don’t want to kill anyone else, I just need your help-”

Ezra interrupted the dramatic monologue, “Well. That’s just not true, is it?” 

Anthony began to laugh. He wiped his fake tears away.

“Why do you do this?” asked Ezra.

“It’s a job. Why do you do what you do?”

“I want to do good. I help people.”

“That’s not exactly what I’d call it…” He took another bite.

“How would you describe it?”

“I’d say you have a thing for assassins. Particularly, this one.” Anthony leaned over the table to get as close as he could. Ezra found himself compelled to lean forward too.

“A lot of people tell me that. Honestly, I don’t _like_ you. How could I?”

“You dooo…” 

“I want to understand you.” Ezra was not undone, not yet, “My dear, you’re so different to anyone else I’ve studied. You obviously have no problems killing people, so why don’t you want them to suffer?”

“I can make people suffer.”

“You can, but you don’t. Why? The way you go about it is actually quite a nice-”

“Shut it.” Ezra suddenly found himself being yanked out of his chair and pinned against the fridge. He felt a blade against his throat, “I’m an assassin, I’m not nice. I can make you suffer, if I like.”

“I - I know something happened to you. Why did you kill that man all those years ago-”

Anthony’s face was suddenly at his neck, sending a shiver up his spine. He felt the hot breath from a whisper, “You’re wearing my perfume.” The grip on the knife tightened. Ezra felt a hand move down to his pants, and he could barely contain himself. The world was spinning. 

But a second later, Anthony pulled away. Ezra remained frozen in place. It took a while for him to process what had just happened, and he realized that Anthony had taken the phone from Ezra’s front pocket, and was now opening it up to examine it. 

“You need to get a new model.” He said, pulling some sunglasses out of his jacket, turning around, “Erm, thank you for dinner, it was really lovely.” And he was gone.

Ezra still couldn’t move, his natural British politeness hadn’t even kicked in to respond to Anthony’s goodbye. He was simultaneously terrified and insanely turned on, and that particular combination just broke his brain. He started to piece his thoughts together: Anthony had his phone, he wondered why Anthony took his phone. 

Then he realized; his phone had Gabriel’s location on it.

***

Gabriel stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed. He wrapped a towel around his waist, and moved over to the sink to brush his teeth. The mirror was completely fogged up. Instinctively, he swiped at it with his hand. There was a face staring over his shoulder. 

“Oh fuck!” He shouted, throwing the toothbrush down, and falling to the floor “Oh fuck, oh Jesus Christ! Help-!”

Anthony stood over him, “There’s no one there.”

“Oh god, a-a-are you going to k-kill me?” 

Anthony nodded, and a smile crept onto his face. 

“Please- please! I have money.”

“So do I.”

“Please-”

Anthony pouted, “Aww, are you scared?”

Gabriel started crying.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to kill you nicely.” He pulled out a new syringe, tapping it a couple times for good measure, “Then, I’m going to make a mess of your body, so it looks worse than it is, okay?”

“You- you bitch.” He grabbed a shampoo bottle and threw it at Anthony, who easily dodged the projectile. 

“Hey now, be glad it’s me and not Hastur. He wouldn’t be so kind, especially not to someone so easy to hate.” He gave Gabriel a playful slap.

By the time Ezra and a whole team of supporting officers arrived, Anthony was long gone. 

***

“It was unbelievable! Ligur just drove backwards, right over him. I was screaming, I couldn’t believe what was happening, I was yelling ‘you killed him, you killed him.’ Then he said he was going to kill me, and I was just terrified, you know? So, I had to shoot him, it was the only thing I could do! I felt so bad about it, you know how I don’t like to do that.”

“Hmm.”

“You believe me, right Lucy?”

“Of course, Darling.” She began to play with his hair, “Although, did you know Hastur is still alive?”

“No he’s not. He was run over… twice.”

She kissed the top of his head, “I think you should give him a visit before he starts telling his side of the story, huh.”


	6. Chapter 6

Lucy ran a hand down Anthony’s arm, “I know you’re nervous.”

“I’m _not_ nervous.”

“You’ll do fine. Now, repeat what I told you.”

“My name is Jay and I’m here because I stole from a church.”

“Good. And what do you do when you get inside?”

“Get to the doctor, get my supplies, kill Hastur, then you’ll come get me.” He hesitated, “Lucy, what if someone recognizes me?”

“No one will recognize you, it’s been years since you’ve been here.”

“Ngk- okay, okay.”

Lucy waved goodbye as Anthony was taken away into the prison complex, where he went through the same process he did several years before. All his possessions were taken away, and he was stripped and forced into an unflattering dull uniform. The day before, his hair was dyed a dark brown and cut short, to ensure he wouldn’t stand out. It was all terribly, terribly familiar. 

He picked a fight as soon as he got in. 

***

“Gabriel said that there were three assassins that day. We only recovered one body, so I did some research and I’m sure I’ve found the third assassin.” said Ezra, “He’s in a prison right at this moment, he was picked up the day of the incident for breaking parole. Name of Hastur. But guess what’s most interesting… It’s the same prison that Anthony was at for murder, three years ago.” 

Frances responded. “Nice work.” 

“We have to speak to him.” 

“Alright then,” She cleared her throat, “Who wants to volunteer to interview this Hastur bloke?”

Ezra’s hand flew into the air immediately. Everyone else at the meeting remained still.

“Guess it’s just you and me, then, Ezra.”

***

Anthony had gotten the living daylights kicked out of him. When they had finally let up, he was spitting blood. He made his way to one of the guards that had seen the whole thing unfold, and groaned, “I need to see a doctor.”

The guard didn’t even bother to look at him. “If you didn’t want to get beaten up, you shouldn’t have provoked them.”

He clutched his side, “I think my rib might be broken.”

“Tough luck.”

Anthony sneered, “Hey, fuck you!”

A black eye was added to his list of injuries. 

***

After exiting a plane, Ezra and his boss sat side-by-side in the back of a cab. He had assumed they were on their way to the prison, but Frances seemed rather overdressed for that. 

She turned to him, “What do you think of my makeup?”

“It looks lovely.”

“You don’t think the lipstick is a bit much? Too red maybe?”

“Not at all.”

Frances began fussing in her hand mirror some more. He had never seen his boss like this before, it was like she was getting ready for a date. 

“Are we not going to speak to Hastur?” He asked.

“We’re going to dinner with an old friend of mine, and she’ll hopefully be able to get us into the prison for that interview.” Perhaps she was getting ready for a date after all. 

They secured a table at a posh restaurant, and waited for this supposed friend to appear. 

“What sort of relationship do you have with her?” Ezra asked as they sat down.

She hummed, “Well. Working in intelligence you come across the same faces from time to time. I suppose we’ve been enemies for so long, that she’s become a kind of friend. We’ve known each other for about an eternity and we’ve come to some sort of … mutually beneficial arrangement. I trust you’ll be discreet about this?”

“Of course.” Though he wasn’t quite sure what he had to be discreet about.

“Ah, the lovely Lucy!” cried Frances as a tall and stunning woman approached the table. 

“Long time, no see!” The friend reached down and kissed Frances on both cheeks, “You look so amazing, darling.”

“Oh hush, you’re the one who looks amazing. This is my colleague, Ezra Fell.”

She gave him a smile, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Lucy sat down rather close to Ezra’s boss, “Now, Frances, what made you decide to give me a call?”

“Why do you think I need something from you? I can’t invite you out to dinner anymore?” 

“I know you. You need something that only _I_ can give, don’t you?” They leaned closer together, “We haven’t eaten out in such a long time, I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“I’d never forget about you.”

Oh, they were definitely lovers at some point. Ezra averted his eyes to focus on his silverware. He felt privy to something he shouldn’t have been seeing. He was very thankful for the food’s arrival, thinking that the pair might finally stop their endless innuendos and inside jokes. But it hardly seemed to slow them down. He dreaded the moment they would start to rope him into the conversation-

“Hey dearie, tell me. What do you think was the first thing your old boss said to me?”

Frances covered her eyes while her face turned cherry red, “Don’t tell him that story! At least let me leave this dinner with my dignity!” Ezra wondered if it was perhaps too late for that. 

“You want to get that interview, then he’s hearing this. C’mon, I’m doing you a huge favor and that’s all I’m asking in return.”

He tried to politely put the brakes on this topic, but, the two of them were totally drunk and unstoppable, “She came right up to me and - mppph!”

“No!” Frances clasped a hand over Lucy’s mouth, “Listen, one time she -” But soon Lucy was covering her mouth as well. They somehow grew even more hysterical, while Ezra watched the scene unfold from across the table. 

He came out of the dinner feeling like he now knew his boss a little too well. And he had picked up some strange vibes from Lucy, he didn’t quite trust her. But, the interview was secured for the next day, at least. 

***

Anthony was sat on the examining table, bruises and lacerations covered his body. The doctor gave him a once-over, “Wow, you were really dedicated to getting here. You look like shit.”

“Hah. Good to see you again, Doc.”

“You remember your time in solitary confinement. They call that wing of the prison Hell, don’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Get yourself to Hell by tomorrow at 9 pm. Lucy will meet you there. But, that’s only after…” She slid a shiv over his desk towards Anthony, “He’s in cell block 6.”

***

The following morning, Frances should have been, by all measures, quite hungover. And yet, she was composed and professional as she normally was. If she was feeling bad, she wasn’t showing it. They reached the prison, and Ezra tried his hardest to not seem nervous. But the fluorescent-lit hallway felt all too similar to the MI5 office, which rather unsettled him. Lucy appeared behind one of the doors. 

“Come in, guys. He’s ready for you.”

They were escorted to some sort of visiting room, though totally devoid of people except for the man known as Hastur. He was wearing a full-leg cast and had a set of crutches leaning against his chair. He didn’t look happy to be talking to any kind of authorities: he slouched in his seat, avoided eye contact, and crossed his arms tightly to his chest. Ezra and Frances sat down across from him, but Lucy also entered the room, and stood to the side.

“Good morning, Hastur. I hope you’re feeling well.” Ezra began. He only grumbled in response, which Ezra tentatively followed up with, “Glad to hear that.”

“We’re from British intelligence, we have a few questions about your recent trip to Tadfield.” Frances said, rather too glumly. 

Hastur’s eyes widened, and Ezra jumped back in, “You’re not in trouble. In fact, we rather think we can help you, so long as you help us. Quid pro quo, if you will.” 

“Quid pro…?”

Ezra elaborated, “If you tell us a little about who you work for, we might be able to secure your release from this facility. What do you say to that?”

“I dun trust you.”

Frances looked amused at that, “The feeling is mutual. But we are both in positions to help each other.”

“I don’t know much about the people I work for. They don’t tell us much-”

“What can you tell us about Crowley?” Ezra suddenly spoke, as if he had been holding this question in the whole time.

His face soured into practically a snarl, “Crowley. The person you need to talk to about him is…”

Neither Ezra nor Frances had seen Lucy frown and shake her head, ever so slightly. But, oh had Hastur seen it.

“… Is…”

“Is who?” 

“Is…Leo.” 

“Leo who?” Lucy nodded. 

Hastur continued. “Dunno a last name.”

Hastur was soon led back to the prison population. Ezra was quite nervous after he left, “I’m not sure that was right, telling him that we can get him out.”

“All for the greater good. He trusts us enough now.”

***

Anthony followed Hastur close, and remained only a few places behind him in the dinner line. He pulled out the shiv, and kept it close to his side. He imagined the scene and realized it wouldn’t work out. The guards were too close, and he knew how trigger-happy they could be. If he didn’t play this right, he would end up dead. So he fell back. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked an inmate who was sat alone at a table. The man didn’t answer, so Anthony knew he’d pegged him correctly and kept talking, “You know, I heard something said about you, and I thought you’d like to know. Reputations are very important in here, as I’m sure you know.” 

That caused the man to look up.

“That guard right there, you see? The one with the mustache. I heard him say you’re a-” And he said a few words that always seemed to have the power to throw a straight man into a powerful rage. The man launched himself at the guard and chaos erupted. Alarms blared, a few bullets were shot, and a lockdown was initiated. Everyone was instructed to return to their cells. Anthony rushed himself over to cellblock 6.

He found Hastur’s empty cell, and crawled under the bed, shiv in his hand. 

When Anthony heard a rush of steps and the cell door slamming closed, he slithered out from his hiding spot. 

“Hullo, Hastur.”

“Crowley!”

“Nice to see you again.”

“You bastard!”

Anthony brandished his weapon, “Hey now. Play nice.”

He held his hands in the air, “I’ve been speaking to the British Intelligence,” He spoke quickly, knowing what was inevitably coming, “They’re going to get me out of here. I can get you out too.”

“Oh, Hastur, I’ve already got my way out.” He took a step forward. 

“They were asking about you!” 

Anthony stopped, “Was there a man with _amazing_ hair?”

Hastur hesitantly nodded. 

“Well, what did you tell them?” 

“I told him to speak to Leo. You remember him, don’t you?”

Anthony’s face became unreadable. He looked down at his knife, “This isn’t the way I usually go about it, but it’ll have to do.”

“Wait, wait! Lucy is working with them!” 

“Liar.” and he quickly sliced Hastur’s throat.

A guard came running at the sound of screaming, they unlocked the cell door as quickly as they could. Inside stood Anthony covered in blood, his arms stretched to either side, shouting “Take me to Hell!” 

He was a bit shaken the whole time he was dragged to solitary confinement. They threw him into the empty, cold room, and shut the door. It brought back a few unpleasant memories, but they were tempered with the thought of getting out of this shithole. He brushed himself off, and began knocking on the door, “Hey, I did it. I did the job.” No one answered him. “Hey, where’s Lucy? Come on, let me out. I did the job!” All that he could think of was the horrible sound Hastur had made, which played over and over in his head.


	7. Chapter 7

Ezra was eating breakfast at his desk, when he was suddenly pulled out of his chair and dragged away.

“Hastur was murdered last night.” Frances supplied. 

“Oh dear. Um, any information on the Leo character?”

“Yes, I meant to send that to you. The first man Crowley murdered had a partner whose name was Leonardo. That’s probably who he was referring to. But, right now we’ve got something much more urgent to focus on.”

“Right.” Ezra followed her closely, and she led him down the street, into a nearby cafe. 

“Order whatever you want, I’ll pay.” She said, handing him a ten-pound note.

Ezra got a cocoa and a croissant, and when he returned, Frances wasn’t alone. 

“Lucy. What a lovely surprise.” said Ezra. 

Oh dear, the two of them were glaring at each other. 

“I suppose you heard-” Lucy began.

“Yes, we heard. How did this happen? He was supposed to be under protection.”

Lucy shrugged, “These things happen. Prison is such a violent place.”

“But do these things _just happen_ to people with information critical to an MI5 investigation?”

Once again, she shrugged. 

Ezra pitched in, “Who killed him?”

“Some guy named Jay. A totally random attack, from what I gather.”

“He was our key to this whole organization, and you let him die.”

Lucy placed a hand on the other woman’s shoulder, “Frances, I think you need to take some time to calm down.” Then, she got up and left. 

Frances buried her face into her hand, “Urgh, I can’t stand her.” 

“What if it was Anthony? He could have snuck his way into the prison and-”

“Enough about Anthony!”

“No, listen- If he snuck into the prison, he could have easily paid or convinced this Jay to take the blame, right? We need to go back to the start, we need to interview Leo.”

“Ezra, stop.”

“He could give us a much greater insight into-”

“And how exactly will that help us? I don’t care about how Anthony’s mind works, not in the slightest. You need to focus on the bigger picture, the greater good.”

“You told me to catch him- to follow every lead.”

“Yes, and now I’m telling you we have priorities other than your little infatuation. You won’t continue this line of investigation, and you won’t speak to Leo. I won’t have you wasting our time.”

The whole talk had been a punch to the gut. To make matters worse, Ezra was quickly moved back to simple deskwork, to be kept away from the front lines of the investigation.

Uriel came in, looking gloomier than usual. They gave him a glance that he knew meant business. He discreetly followed them to a little office, when they finally turned around and held out a file, “Frances told us to stop looking into the prison, but I kept checking. And look at this…” They took a screenshot from a video feed, though it was blurry and the figure had much shorter hair, the identity of the subject was undeniable

“Anthony.”

“Yes. He was in the prison with him.”

“I was right, they put him there to assassinate Hastur before we could get all the information out of him.”

“That’s not all.” They put the photograph away and replaced it with another one, “Someone came to visit him.”

He gasped as he looked down at the photograph. Frances was there with him, in the same visiting room that they had interviewed Hastur in, “How dare she speak to him without telling me-”

“How dare she? She’s the boss. He doesn’t belong to you, he’s not your boyfriend.”

He ignored this, “I need to follow up on a lead, can you cover for me later tonight?” They agreed without asking for further details. It was better that way.

He went back to his desk, and looked busy, but little did his boss know, he was planning an independent excursion.

***

Anthony felt like he was going insane. He was pacing around the tiny grubby cell, muttering nonsense to himself. All he could think was _where the fuck was Lucy._ Did Lucy hate him? Was she dead? Was she actually working for MI5 the whole time? All those options seemed extremely plausible at the moment. And what the fuck had that other lady wanted with him?

Suddenly, the door opened and he was dragged out. 

“Urgh- where are you taking me now!”

The guards didn’t respond. He soon found himself being handed his normal clothes and shoved out of the prison. There was a car waiting there for him. He was driven down to an unfamiliar flat.

The driver finally turned and held out her hand, “Dagon. I’m your new boss”

“Where’s Lucy.”

“I’m afraid you don’t work for her anymore. I’ve got you now. And I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” She led him up to a decrepit flat, “Now, we need to discuss how I like to do things. I won’t stand for disobedience; you won’t talk back, you will do exactly as I say-”

_Lucy had left him._

“- And no more of this makeup stuff. It’s silly. From now on, you’re simply a man, so be a man. I will not refer to you as anything else. God help me if I ever see you in a dress-”

_Lucy had left him with this bitch. _

She gave him an envelope, “Here’s your first job. Get it done by tomorrow, and meet me back here.” She pulled a gun out from her bag, “And this is for you.” 

He accepted the gun. Rage was building up in him.

“I look forward to our partnership-”

_Bang!_

She fell to the ground, dead.

***

Leo was older than Ezra, but he wasn’t old by any means. However, his eyes seemed to carry the weight of someone who had lived a long and hard life. Ezra introduced himself. “Hello, Leonardo. I’m so glad to be able to speak with you.” He shook the teacher’s hand.

“Oh, just Leo, please. So, what did you want to know about our school’s drama program?”

“Erm, I’m sorry but I lied. I’m not here about that- rather I’m with the British authorities. I’m investigating Crowley.” Leo’s face fell, “I don’t mean to upset you-”

“They told me he died.” 

“Yes. He’s … he’s dead. But we need to know about him psychologically to understand the people he worked for.”

“Well, he asked a lot of questions in class, he liked being in the spotlight, he played a wonderful Hamlet and - oh he also murdered my partner. Does that help you understand him?” 

Ezra winced, “Do you have anything in greater detail? This really is vital to preventing others from dying at the hands of - this organization he worked for.”

He sighed, “I may still have a few things he sent me.”

Leo drove Ezra in his little car back to his house. He pulled a big box out of his closet, and handed it to Ezra, “Feel free. I’ll, er, I’ll make some tea.”

Left alone with the box, Ezra carefully opened it. It was completely full of letters, cassette tapes, photographs, even some clothes. It was fascinating. When Leo came back into the room, he said, “This is more than a ‘few things.’”

Leo shrugged, “He had an obsession.”

Ezra pulled out a photograph of a young Anthony and Leo spending time together outside of school, “This obsession… was it reciprocated?”

“I was his teacher, I had a long-term relationship.”

“Was it?”

“No, God, no! I cared for him, but not- not like that. He had issues, and I wanted to be a supportive teacher. My own drama teacher saved my life when I was young, I thought I could pass on the favor, you know? And I found that Crowley, well, he was easy to like, he was funny. Max, my partner, he- uh, they never liked each other, but I didn’t think much of it. Then, one day, I come home to find him dead. And Crowley is there and he’s saying that we can run away together.” He began to cry, “I shoved him away, told him he was evil and a demon, that what he had done was unforgivable. Soon after that, he got arrested, and I heard he’d died. And that’s that.”

Ezra looked down guiltily, “He’s… he’s not dead.”

Leo gripped the table, “No.”

“I’m tracking him, and I think he might try to come visit you.”

“God, please, no.”

***

Lucy hummed softly as she unlocked her front door. 

“Mum!” Adam called from the other room.

“Hello! I’m back.” She placed the groceries down on the counter.

“Mum!” He called again.

“Adam? Come on out sweetie, I’ve got some chocolate for you. You can have a little bit before dinner.”

“Mum!” 

“What’s going on Adam, where are you?” She made her way to her son’s room. He had built a little fort in the middle of his messy floor, “You were supposed to tidy up, sweetie. It looks even messier than before- Ahh!” She almost fell backward. Lucy had peeked into the fort, where Anthony lay on his side. In one hand was a phone, and when he tapped the screen, her son’s voice yelled for his mum once again.

“You’ve never called me sweetie before.” He pulled a gun out of his fluffy jacket, and pointed it to Lucy. 

“Where’s Adam?” 

“You left me there. You abandoned me.”

“I was trying to get you out.”

“Dagon told me to kill you.” He held the gun tighter, “Why?”

“Where is Dagon now?”

“Dead.”

“And Adam?”

“Oh, he’s alive. I’ve got him locked up somewhere. He talks so much, doesn’t he?”

She let out a breath, “Thank you.”

He rolled his eyes, and climbed out of the fort, “I’m not stupid. Why do they want you dead?”

“Because I defended you,”

“What?”

Her facial expression melted into one of pure affection, “You’re the best assassin in the world, you really are. But they’re afraid of you, of your methods. I have defended you so many times.” She reached out and touched his face, “They always said I didn’t discipline you enough, and maybe I didn’t. I couldn’t. I care about you too much. I think of you as my kid. I love you, Anthony.”

Anthony lowered the gun.

Lucy took the opportunity to grab a cricket bat off her son’s shelf, and swing it at him.

***

“He must have sent this to me after he escaped. I always- I thought he got someone else to send it.” Leo gently picked up a coat, “I’ve never been able to take it out of the closet before.”

“Can I see?” 

“Of course.” He handed the sheepskin coat over to Ezra. He moved his hands up and down the fabric, and felt something rather peculiar. 

“Would you mind pouring me another cup?” Ezra gestured to his empty teacup. 

“Sure, sure.” Leo left the room.

Ezra took the chance to examine it further. Something was hidden underneath the silk lining, and he saw that some of the stitching had been undone, then redone by hand. He carefully tore at the stitches and found a plastic bag with a passport and an extraordinary stash of money. He opened the passport and was greeted with Crowley’s face. He found a scrap of paper and wrote a little note, placing it underneath the lining. As Leo reentered the room, he quickly hid the passport and cash in his own pocket. 

“Lovely material.” He said.

“Yes. I suspect he’d stolen it. Must’ve cost a fortune. Do you like it? You can have it, if you wish. I’m never going to wear it.”

“No, no I couldn’t possibly. I think this should go back in your wardrobe.” Ezra took a sip from the new cup of tea, “I’d better get going soon, thank you so much for speaking to me.”

As Leo led him out, he issued him with one final warning, “Be careful, Ezra… you’re his type.” 

***

Anthony lay dazed on the floor, but he vaguely heard a familiar clicking of heels and the door slamming. _She hit me!_ He managed to pull himself to his feet, but almost immediately fell over again, “You hit me!” 

He stumbled out of the house, and saw Lucy starting her car.

“You arsehole! You hit me!” He began shooting randomly. He was seeing double, couldn’t aim.

He saw double when she stuck her middle finger out the car window, and sped off. 

“I’m going to kill your kid! You fucking arsehole!”


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re not really my nanny, are you? Where are you taking me? Where are we going? If you don’t let me go, you’re going to be dead really really soon-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Anthony pulled out a gun and pointed it at the eleven-year-old boy, “Or I’ll shoot you in the face!” 

“You can’t shoot me! Mum will shoot _you_ in the face!”

“I’ll shoot her in the face too!” 

“Why!”

“Because she’s a fucking arsehole!”

“Don’t say that about my mum! I’ll kill you!”

“I’ll kill you!” 

“Let me go!”

“Arghhhh! What will make you stop shouting at me!” Anthony hissed and stomped his feet.

“Food!”

“... oh? Food?"

"I'm starving."

"Right. Okay then. Let's get something to eat.” He put his gun back in his jacket. 

***

“Frances! Frances!” Ezra knocked on her door, ready for the confrontation, “We need to talk.”

The door clicked unlocked, and Ezra shoved his way inside, “We need to- oh dear.” The living room was full of clutter, it looked like someone had robbed the house. Clothes were thrown everywhere. Lucy was standing in the center of the room, looking sheepish and worried. 

“What is she doing here?”

Frances huffed, “None of your business.”

“Listen- Frances, I know Anthony is in the prison-”

“No he’s not.”

“Excuse me? I have proof-”

“He broke out, attacked Lucy, and kidnapped her son. She came to me for help.”

“Oh! Oh dear.”

***

Adam had settled down now with a hamburger, though he was still full of questions, “Are you a bad person?”

“Yup.”

“Am I being kidnapped?”

Anthony nodded. 

“Will you kill me?”

Anthony almost kept up the facade, but found he was too exhausted to, “No. I’m not up for that. I never kill kids.”

“Where are we going next?”

“Well, we’ll get some money and go speak to your mum.”

“... Is she a bad person too?”

“Absolutely the worst. She’s satan herself. Hey, what about you? Bad or good?”

“I dunno yet. We’ll see. How did you get to be bad?”

“Ehh, it wasn’t hard. Just sorta ended up here, you know? It’s not hard to do bad things if you practice, and if you’re friends with the right - er - wrong people.” 

Adam nodded sagely. 

Anthony rustled a hand through Adam’s hair, “Finish up, we’ve gotta get going.”

“Where?” 

“To see an old friend of mine.”

***

“I’ll never be able to forgive myself!” Lucy sobbed as she recounted what happened. Frances patted her on the back in an attempt at sympathy. 

Ezra cleared his throat, “I think I know where he’s going next.” 

The two women stared at him.

“I have to go see Leo again, get to him before he does.”

Frances paused, “Wait a second, _again?_ You spoke to Leo after I explicitly told you not to?”

“... Yes.” He reached for his phone and began to type his number. “He’s not answering his phone.”

Lucy wiped a tear away, “Don’t bother. Come on, I’ll drive you.” 

***

Leo’s phone rang right as someone knocked on his door. He ignored the ringing due to the fact that a little blond boy had appeared on his front doorstep, “Oh- hello there. Are you okay?”

Adam pushed his way in, “Can I get something to drink?” 

“Oh-well- alright then? I’ve got some apple juice if you like. Where are your parents-”

Adam chattered endlessly in the kitchen, while Anthony made his way inside. He snuck over to the bedroom, silently opened the wardrobe, and found the coat he’d dropped here years ago. He lay the coat on the bed and began to search the inside, though found the stitching of the lining already torn. He grew more frantic as he felt for the stash of money, but all that was left was a note: 

_Sorry Dear_

That fucking bastard, Ezra.

“Crowley?” a familiar voice called out.

He turned, saw his first love. Saw his blond curly hair. His heart stopped, tears started, “Leo- you. You look good.”

“Your face- your poor face, let me get my first aid kit.”

“No. I’m fine.” He pulled out the gun, “Ezra’s been here?”

Leo gulped, “Yes, he was asking about you. He gave me his phone number.”

“Give me that number, now.”

“At least let me clean your face, first. Put that thing down, silly. I’ll get some ice.” 

Adam chimed in from behind Leo, “Yeah, you look like shit.”

He touched his black eye, “It does sting, a bit… okay.” He placed the gun back in his jacket.

Leo carefully led him to the kitchen, where he dug through a drawer. Anthony looked around the kitchen, “It looks the same as it did. Exactly the same.”

“S-shut up!” Leo spun around, suddenly pointing a gun at Anthony. 

He laughed. Of course, he’d be betrayed _again_ today.

“It’s not funny! I’ll shoot you! Adam, leave the room, please.”

“No, Adam, you can stay. He thinks he can shoot a gun, but he really, really can’t.”

“Yes I can! I-I’ll shoot you!”

“You’d shoot me? In front of an innocent little boy?”

“I’m fine with that!” Adam pitched in.

Leo continued, “You said you were trying to save my life when you killed Max, but you ruined it!” 

“Hey, I did save you! He treated you like shit!”

“Listen Crowley! I have nightmares every single night because of you! I can’t go two seconds without thinking you’ll come after me! Even after they told me you were dead.” He took a breath and said much quieter, “I’ve hoped for so long that you were alive so I’d get the chance to fucking kill you myself.”

Anthony teared up slightly, “We could have had a good life together, you and I.”

“Wait a second,” Adam said, “Did you two used to date?”

“He seduced me!” They shouted at the same time.

Leo’s jaw dropped, “It was you!”

Anthony hesitated, “Well- yeah… alright, it was mostly me. But look at him, can you blame me? Too bad I have to kill him now,” He began to pull his gun back out, but before he could even point it, Leo’s gun was turned on himself. _Bang!_ Leo dropped to the floor.

“Oh my god!” Adam screamed. 

“Well…” He felt somewhat relieved at first that he didn’t have to pull the trigger, but something else quickly began to gnaw at him, “That’s that, I guess. Adam, go and see if he has any money.”

The first thing Anthony did after leaving the house was buy a new pair of shades. He immediately relaxed as they slipped on his face. They sat on a bench at the park. 

“Are those things necessary?” asked Adam, pointing to Anthony’s new accessory.

“Course they are.” 

“You know, I’ve decided something about you.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

“You’re a good person.”

Anthony sneered, “Shaddup.”

“You’re sad. And sad people are usually good.”

“Ugh, don’t tell me you’re one of those kids who thinks their profound. Look, I’m not sad. Quite happy, me.” He peered around at the crowds in the park, and pointed, “Go steal that lady’s wallet, then we can go somewhere nice.”

Adam rolled his eyes and hopped off the bench to go do what he was told. 

***

The car ride was awkward, to say the least. Ezra fidgeted with the glove compartment the whole time, while Lucy drove silently. He decided to try and make conversation, “So, who exactly is it that you work for?” 

“You don’t want to know.”

“Why not?”

She gave him a half-smile, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Ezra breathed in, “Okay…”

“No, seriously, I would.”

“I said, okay. Tell me.”

The glove compartment suddenly popped open due to Ezra’s fidgeting, revealing a pistol. Lucy glared at him and slammed it shut. 

“Erm, why do you…?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Well, I’m on my way to fetch my son from a psychopath who wants to kill him and me. Is that a good enough reason for you?”

“We’ll get him back, don’t worry.”

“I’m not - I know - we just have to give him what he wants.”

Ezra nodded in agreement, “Me.”

Lucy stared at him and raised an eyebrow, “No, me. He wants to kill _me_. I just said that.”

“Right, right, yes of course.”

“I literally just said that.”

Ezra’s phone rang, interrupting the conversation, “Oh dear, Leo is calling me.”

“Go on. Answer it.”

He flipped his phone open, “Hello?”

“Hey, Angel.” Anthony’s voice sent chills up his spine. 

“Anthony-” Ezra said, causing Lucy to swerve the car, “Is- erm- is Adam with you?”

“Yes, he’s here. Hey, uh, we’re about to lunch at the Ritz. Why don’t you come and join us?” And the phone line went dead. 

“He’s at the Ritz with Adam.” The car swung around in a U-turn the second those words left Ezra’s mouth. 

***

“What if they don’t show up?” Adam poked at the tablecloth.

“They will. But if they don’t, then I guess I’ll just have to take you with me. I’m leaving the country after this.”

“You can’t do that! I’d need a passport!” 

“Guess what I got…” Anthony slipped a UK passport book out of his pocket, “Your picture is _hilarious_.” He opened the book and started giggling to himself. 

“Hey, shut up! I was young then!”

“Adam!” cried Lucy as she ran into the dining room. 

“Mum!” He jumped out of his chair.

“Wait a second,” Anthony grabbed Adam’s arm and held a gun to his head, “Just wait.” All silverware in the room clattered, as people began to run screaming from the scene. 

“Don’t!” Ezra pointed a gun at Anthony, “Don’t move!”

Anthony gave him a once-over, “Hey Ezra, nice pistol, suits you.” 

Lucy was taken aback, “You took my gun?” 

Ezra blushed, “I’m afraid I did.”

For a moment guns were pointed, and nothing was said. Then, Anthony spoke up again, “You don’t know what to do with that thing, Angel. I can see your hands shaking from here.”

Ezra considered this, “... You’re right, I don’t. I’ll put it down.”

“Are you willing to give me what I want, guys?” He shifted the gun to point at Lucy. 

Ezra held out his hands, “Wait - This doesn’t need to end in violence! I’ve got your passport. I’ve got it right here. I’ll throw it to you if you give up the boy.”

“Throw it.”

“You first.”

“Ezra, just throw the damn passport.” Lucy growled. 

“Alright, alright.” He gave a little toss, that only went half the distance between them. Anthony stared at Ezra over his sunglasses. 

“Come on! What kind of a throw was that?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Ezra moved to kick the passport closer to him. 

“Thanks for that.” He reached to the ground, keeping the boy firmly in his grip, “ You know this doesn’t change anything though.”

“Darling, please.” Lucy cried. 

“I just want to finish this job so I can go home and nap, is that alright with everyone here? Arghh I haven’t had a good sleep in ages. It’s killing me.” 

“Let Adam go. I’m your job, not him. I know you have to finish your job, so go ahead. Do it.” 

In one quick move, Anthony let go of Adam and shot Lucy in the stomach. The restaurant fell into chaos once again. Ezra scrambled to pick up the gun he had dropped, and he held it out to an escaping Anthony.

“Stop!” He halted, but didn’t turn around. Ezra pleaded, “Come with me, please.”

When Anthony spoke, his voice was soft and sweet, “Okay… I’ll go with you.” 

“You will?”

“I’ll go with you if it’s only me and you. Just us two.”

Ezra felt himself starting to cry, “You know I can’t do that, Anthony.”

“We can go off together. I’d protect you.”

“Listen to yourself. You’re being ridiculous.” 

“...Well then. I guess this is goodbye.” He didn’t even look back when he made his exit. 

Ezra’s hands trembled around the gun as he let the assassin leave. He finally turned and ran to care for the woman bleeding on the floor. She was quickly admitted to the hospital, which was where Ezra was when Frances met up with him.

She stood solemnly next to him, “The doctors just spoke to me. She's not going to make it… I hate to admit it, but I was wrong about you, Ezra Fell. You cause trouble wherever you go, much more trouble than you’re worth. I think this investigation would be better off if you weren’t working on it. Certainly more people would be alive.”

Ezra held his head in shame. 

“Go to the office and pack up your things.”

He hadn’t had a chance to check his phone in a while, so he looked through what he had missed while he was in the train ticket line. Several hours ago, there was a missed call. Uriel had left a voicemail. 

_‘Ezra. I went back over the records of Gabriel’s bribes, and I traced the banking number. There’s a flat being paid for by the same account. Go check it out. I’ll send you the address.’_

Ezra saw the address in his texts. It was close by. With nothing left to lose, he ran out of the train station. As quickly as he could, while keeping his head down and his hands in his pockets, he sped towards the apartment building. The building was unassuming, but quite chic. He let himself in and began to poke around. The lobby was intensely silent, it seemed as if there were no actual residents living there. 

The room number Uriel listed was all the way at the end of the hallway. A black door. Ezra tried to look through the peephole, but it was one of those where you can only see out of. The door was locked. 

“I hope I remember how to do this…” He murmured, taking a little lockpick out of his pocket. With some of the right twisting, the door clicked open, “There we go.”

He shut and locked the door behind him, then took a second to acclimate himself. The flat looked totally unlived in. It was like one that would be shown off in a furniture magazine. All the decorations were perfectly chic, but gave him no real sense of Anthony. Ezra stepped around the neat flat carefully, as if he felt he would disturb the delicate equilibrium he had found here. He opened Anthony’s closet, it was full of every kind of outfit or disguise imaginable and several high-end wigs. The bathroom was more like an actor’s dressing room, complete with a fancy vanity table and all sorts of makeup that Ezra was unfamiliar with. There was a weapon of some kind in every room, whether it was a gun, knife, or his famous syringes already full of some kind of chemical. He carefully took one of the knives and stashed it up his sleeve, before moving onto the kitchen. It was quite empty for the most part. His fridge was full to the brim with alcohol, and nothing else. 

Ezra bent down and grabbed a bottle. It was an expensive champagne. He tore off the wrapping, popped the cork off, and managed to spill a good amount onto one of the rugs. He took a nice drink, then another, then another as he made his way back to the bedroom.

The closet door was still open, and he could see his favorite scarf hanging among all the other clothes. In a fit of rage, Ezra threw the bottle at the closet, and began tearing the clothes off the hangers, just throwing them in the air. There, now it looks lived in. Someone’s been here. Ezra felt a pang of regret, someone was going to have to clean up all these glass shards. _I cause trouble wherever I go, right?_

He suddenly heard a key at the door. Anthony walked in and froze when he took in the scene. Ezra giving him a deer in the headlights look, his bedroom a mess of glass, champagne, and clothes. 

“Hey.” Anthony waved, he wasn’t quite sure what one was supposed to do in this situation.

“You- you got me fired!” Ezra shouted. 

“Oh- I’m, I’m sorry about that.” Anthony lowered his head, and Ezra’s anger quickly ran out of steam. Something quite different was replacing it. He stared at the sad bruised face and words began to form themselves at Ezra’s lips.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Okay.” 

“I do like you. I - I like you quite a lot.”

“I guess you didn’t mean what you said before.”

“No, I didn’t.” Ezra ran a hand through his hair, which made Anthony shiver, “You completely fascinate me, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the day I learned of your existence.” They took one step towards one another, “I want to know you completely. I think about your dreams and your past, and I think about what you’re eating, the things you wear. I think about what you smell like, and your eyes, and your- your lips. I think about how you feel when you kill someone.” Another step, “How it would feel to touch you.”

“I think about you too, Angel.” Ezra trembled at the softness of the last word, “I mean- I masturbate to you a lot.” 

“Oh.” Ezra turned completely red, “Oh gosh”

“Sorry- too much information?”

“No-no. Just- unexpected. But not- not bad.”

They smiled at each other. Ezra took one deep breath, and then lay himself down on Anthony’s bed. He closed his eyes, “God, I’m tired. Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m dead tired.” Anthony replied. He hesitated before slowly lowering himself down on the other side of the bed. They were now side-by-side, but not touching.

“You caught me. Well done.”

“I did.” Ezra hummed. “What do you want out life, Anthony?”

He didn’t speak for a second, “I - I just want someone to watch movies with.”

“I like movies.” Ezra offered.

This was better than anything Anthony had ever fantasized about. He shifted onto his side, and took in the beautiful sight. Ezra looked totally relaxed with his eyes closed and his hands resting on his chest. This was perfect, especially after everything that had gone so wrong recently.

Ezra had felt the movement, “Are you going to kill me?” 

Anthony shook his head, “No.”

“Honestly?” He opened his eyes and looked over. 

“I promise.” 

Then, Ezra moved to mirror the position Anthony was in. They were facing each other now, quite terribly close, but still not touching. They could both feel the warmth of their breaths intermingling. Ezra reached up to remove Anthony’s sunglasses. The first brush of skin felt like sparks to both of them.

“I’ve -I’ve never actually done anything like this before.” Ezra’s eyes frantically glanced up and down Anthony’s face, always taking time to pause on his lips. 

Anthony began to lean in, “Don’t worry about it, Angel.” Their lips brushed ever so gently. Ezra closed the distance between them, and kissed him back, hard. One hand grabbed Anthony’s shirt and pulled him close. He didn’t know his angel had it in him to be this rough, and it made him feel rather dizzy. But then, he felt something sharp poke his stomach, and he pulled out of the kiss. The hand tugging at his shirt wouldn’t let him go far. He glanced down to see Ezra holding a knife against him. When he looked up, there was something crazed in those blue eyes. 

“You can’t do this…”

“You underestimate me, dear.” And the knife sank into flesh. An enormous amount of blood began pouring out of Anthony’s stomach. 

Anthony hissed, “Oh shitshitshitshit! What did you do! Bassstard…” 

The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, as Ezra’s hands, the sheets, both of their clothes became red and slick with blood. He didn’t move, just stared at the whimpering mess of an assassin. He no longer seemed like a ruthless killer at all.

Anthony looked up at Ezra with teary wide eyes, full of betrayal. “I really liked you.” He sputtered between haggard breaths. 

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” Ezra’s grip on the knife tightened.

“No no no no, don’t pull it ou-Arghhh” Blood wasn’t just pouring, it was spraying out of the wound. 

“Oh god. Hold onto it, I’ll-I’ll get bandages, okay?” Ezra ran off the bed and into the bathroom, he dug around until he found something that looked like a first aid kit. When he tried to return to the bedroom, a gunshot rang out. He fell back and hid behind the door frame.

Another shot, then another. Ezra heard the front door slam closed. He finally got the courage to peek into the room, but all that was left of Anthony was a huge pool of blood. 

“Oh… _fuck._”


	9. Chapter 9

“Oh… _fuck_.”

Instinctively, Ezra tried to pace around the room, but the crunch of glass under his shoes stopped him. _Shitshitshitshit_. He needed to leave. He began to run out of the flat and down the stairs. There was a trail of blood leading him. 

Suddenly, the front door to the apartment building was knocked down. Ezra peeked down to the ground floor and saw a group of the most menacing-looking police storm in the building. He knew by the way they walked and held their weapons, they weren’t police at all. These were assassins. He fell back, opened the first unlocked door, and stashed himself inside what turned out to be a supply closet. 

He held one hand over his mouth as the assassins ran past. He heard them continue up the stairs, and kick in Anthony’s door. He finally let himself breathe, and carefully exited the closet. He ran downstairs. His phone began to ring. _Shitshitshitshit Frances, not now_. He fumbled trying to silence it and run out of the building at the same time. 

Because of that, he didn’t notice the bloody handprint on the alley to his right. This was where Anthony was resting, behind a dumpster, clutching at his stomach. He willed himself to stay conscious. 

He saw Ezra running away, then he heard a stern voice, “There’s blood. He won’t get far.” 

Anthony peeked over the dumpster and saw a few familiar faces packing all of his things into the back of a van. 

The edges of his vision had begun to fade. _No._ He had to stay awake. He pushed down harder on his wound, “... fuck.” He whimpered. Finally, he managed to start shuffling down the alleyway, using the wall to keep himself upright. A few bottles littered the ground, and he bent over to pick one up. Some kind of cheap vodka, half empty. He took a large swig and poured it over his stomach. He had to disinfect it. He gritted his teeth and continued to walk. _Everything is fine, everything is fine._

He peeked out the alley. There were people out there, fuck. There was a cafe, and a woman who was paying much more attention to her laptop than her coat. He walked passed, grabbed it and threw it on. From the looks other people were giving him, he knew he didn’t look great. But at least no one could see him bleeding. No one would call the police. Shit, where would he go now?

***

Ezra didn’t hear his phone ring the second time. The third time he did, and he picked it up. 

“Hello?” 

Frances’ voice was cold, “I know where you are. Come back, Ezra.” The line cut out.

“Wait… I-I think I killed him.” He whispered to no one. 

He wandered. Somehow ended up in the train station. He saw the food court, yes that’s what he needed. He stepped into a shop, and began to pull pastries off the shelf. People stared at him as his arms filled up with packages of croissants and sandwiches and things, though he hardly noticed. 

“Do you need help, sir?”

He looked up from blankly trying to scan a bag of crisps in the self-checkout. 

“I’m fine, absolutely fine, why would you even suspect otherwise?”

“You’ve been at that for ten minutes.” 

“Oh. Have I?” He finally managed to scan it and put it in the pile of food to the side. 

“Are you… are you okay?”

“Everything’s tickety-boo. Rather! Mind how you go!” And he moved on to the next snack. He didn’t pay attention to the cost, he just swiped his card. Soon after, the train ticket was purchased. He waited. He ate. He didn’t think, not at all. 

He didn’t think a single thought until he put a hand in his pocket. Cold metal. A bloody knife with his fingerprints on it, and Anthony’s blood. His eyes searched around frantically. He saw mothers usher their children away from him and people avoid making eye contact. Then there were the guards. Of course there were security guards present, they were there in every major station nowadays. And armed too.

Quickly he ran into a restroom and locked himself in the stall. He unraveled a roll of toilet paper, and wiped down the weapon with trembling hands. He completely wrapped it up. No trash can in the stall, though. He quietly unlocked it and peered out. No trash can in the bathroom. Air dryers and all that. Saving paper. He placed the wad of paper in his pocket and left. _Shitshitshitshit_ why were there no trash cans in the train station? He knew why, because some people had dropped bombs in them last year. His own department had supported the policy change. 

He just had to keep it with him, for now. 

The train arrived. He boarded. He sat down. Looked around. _Unisex bathrooms_, thank God. As the train left the station, he darted to the loo. Quickly, he threw the knife in the trash can. Stepped away, went back to his seat. 

The motion of the train lulled him into a kind of trance. He wasn’t thinking again, which was a good state to be in. 

***

“C’mon you bastards,” Anthony waved at all the cars that passed. They just swerved around, honked at him. No good Samaritans anywhere. “C’mon…” 

Fuck it. 

He leapt in front of the next car that tried to speed away from him. A nervous man jumped out of the driver’s seat, “Oh God. Oh my God.”

“I need to go to the hospital.” Anthony groaned from the pavement.

The next thing he knew, he was in the backseat, bleeding all over the vintage car.

“Urgh. What’s your name.” He grunted.

“Young. Arthur Young. Oh dear God, I should have just called an ambulance. I’m not responsible-”

“You wanna tell them how you hit me with your car? Drive faster.”

“You hit me!”

“Hey Arthur, know how to dispose of a body?”

“No!”

“Better hurry then.” His vision was fading. He caught a glance of himself in the rear view mirror, and he already looked like a corpse. He was only vaguely aware of being dragged out of the car.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed. He grit his teeth as all the pain came rushing back. He started trying to stand up. 

“You’re awake.” The nurse approached him, “Lay down. What’s your name, sweetheart? You didn’t have any ID on you.”

“Can’t--”

“Can’t remember?”

“Can’t say-- danger.”

“I can get the police on the phone--”

“No! Ergh, no police. P-policeman did it. He’ll be- urgh- he’ll be looking for me.”

“Oh dear. I’ll make sure your records are kept confidential.”

“Thank you…” He lay back down, “Am I gonna make it?”

“Yes, we stitched you right up. None of your organs were punctured, you were very lucky. You just need to finish your course of antibiotics and you’ll heal just fine.”

“Why do I feel so…” He waved one hand around vaguely.

“Painkillers. They tend to make one feel a bit woozy. Don’t worry about that for now, love, just rest.”

“Gotta…” but he started drifting back into sleep. 

***

Ezra hummed and danced along to the record of Tchaikovsky. He already drunk a whole bottle of wine, and was in the process of opening his second. 

“Cake!” He shouted to himself, while pouring a glass.

He had purchased a victoria sponge on his way home, and he was determined to eat it. He pulled it out of the fridge, and cut out a slice. He alternated between bites of cake and sips of wine, until suddenly there was no more cake left on his plate. Time for another. 

He picked up the knife and froze. He stopped listening to the music. The strawberry jam on the knife looked rather a lot like- and there was some on his hands as well- and the wine stain on his shirt-

He ran himself a bath, yes a bath would do him good. And he soaked for more than two hours, drinking a whole lot more wine and ignoring several phone calls during that time, and not thinking at all. He didn’t feel any cleaner by the end of it.

When he finally extricated himself from the water, his phone rang again. It was an unknown number. _This was it, they know, they know everything._ He picked it up, trembling, waiting for the _hands up, we have your home surrounded, don’t try to run, we know everything, you’re going to jail-_

“H-hello?”

“Hullo, uh, Mr. Fell? We’re calling about a car accident you were involved in. You may be entitled to compensation.” The telemarketer read out her script in a sing-songy voice.

He took a long sigh, “C-compensation? Oh dear. Tell me all about it.”

“Really? Oh - you want to hear about - okay!” 

***

“What’re you here for?” Anthony asked the girl in his neighboring bed. 

“Car accident. You?”

“I was stabbed.”

“No way! Wicked. Who did it?”

“My guardian angel.”

She tilted her head, “An angel?”

“He did it to show how much he loves me.”

“Now that’s just stupid. Angels don’t exist. And you certainly don’t stab someone if you love them. That’s not a foundation for a healthy relationship.”

“Yeah, well… It surprised me. Damn it, he just keeps surprising me. That’s why I love him so much.”

A nurse interrupted their conversation, “Hello Pippin, I’m here with your lunch.”

Anthony contained his amusement until the nurse left the room, “Pippin? Seriously?”

“I go by Pepper.”

“Smart kid. Hey, do they have you on any meds?”

“Not much.”

“Mine make me too dizzy to walk, can you do me a favour?” 

She was bored out of her mind in the hospital, so when Anthony suggested that she steal a lab coat and ID, she practically jumped out of bed to do it. 

He softly clapped when she returned with everything he’d asked for, “Wow, you’re really good at stealing. You should do it more often.”

“Cheek.”

Hours had passed, and Anthony threw away his next dose of meds. His head was beginning to clear up, the hospital sounds grew more quiet as the night went on, and Pepper was sleeping soundly across the room. He stepped out of bed, testing his feet, and found that he managed to stand. He threw the coat over his hospital gown, and fixed his bedhead. His wound stung a bit, but he ignored it. 

He walked like he had somewhere to be. He’d long since found out that if he had a clipboard and the right costume, he could get practically anywhere. So no one even gave him a second glance, while he pilfered through all the patients’ rooms. But no one at all had their wallets with them. He returned empty-handed and woke Pepper up.

“Urghhh. Please tell me you have money.” He ranted to his roommate.

“I’m eleven.”

“Did I ask for your age?”

She rolled her eyes, “I can’t have a job, how am I supposed to have money?”

“That’s not very helpful to me, Pepper…” He began to wobble.

“Um, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, everything’s fine-” Anthony began to turn very pale, and he collapsed. 

***

Ezra met up with Frances in their usual cafe in the morning. 

“Listen-”

“Cocoa?” Her tone was very light, as if they were still on good terms.

“Yes, but um…”

“Is this about your little detour?”

“I’m so sorry-”

“No, no, no. Don’t apologize. It’s a waste of time. Now tell me, where exactly did you run off to?”

“I, er, I had a hunch. I found Anthony’s flat.”

“Yes. As I suspected.” She nodded, “And Anthony?”

“Uh, wasn’t there.”

“Wasn’t there?” 

Ezra gulped, “The flat was completely abandoned. No sign of him. None at all.”

“Huh.”

“Some, uh, some policemen - assassins disguised as policemen rather - stopped by. They kicked down his door.”

“Cleaners from the organization. I’ll send some people over to that address, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find a few empty rooms scrubbed clean. There won’t be a trace. If Anthony is still alive, he’ll be long gone.”

“If? I mean, surely he’s alive, right?” Ezra’s voice was shaking. 

“Any ideas where he might be?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Well, come on then.” She stood up and looked surprised to see Ezra wasn’t following her, “Come on, back to the office.”

“You- you fired me.”

“Oh that’s right. I did. Well, lucky old you, you’re back on the team. Come on.”

Ezra stood frozen in place, quite unsure of what just happened. But he just figured it was another one of her mind games. 

Frances escorted him to the morgue, quickly explaining that there had been a new development, “There’s a body you need to see.” 

In the center of the room was a table, and on that table lay a corpse covered by a sheet.

“Oh dear, the smell.”

“Yes, he’s been exhumed. There’s been some suspicion regarding his death, especially with the recent discovery of some falsified records, as you know.” She pulled back the sheet. 

“Wait a second. This man- he’s famous, isn’t he? I recognize his face.”

“Famous and rich, yes. He’s a Mr. Azrael.”

“And you think he was assassinated by -”

“Yes. That’s why I thought I’d get the head of the fan club to take a look.”

Ezra glared, “How did he die?”

“Heart attack, supposedly. But on the second examination, we found a puncture mark from a needle.”

***

Anthony began to wake up, and he found he was tucked back into bed, “What time is it?”

“I dunno, morning.”

“Fuck, I need to leave. Err, Pepper, do you have any clothes I could borrow?”

“Nothing that’ll fit you.”

“Why are you so short?”

“I’m eleven!”

“Argh, okay. I’ll, er, I’ll figure something out.” 

“Where are you going anyway? To go see your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“But what if he stabs you again?”

“He won’t! He only managed to do that because it surprised me. But I know him so much better now, I know him better than anyone else. He and I have so much in common.”

“You’re crazy.”

“_Crazy little thing called love…” _

***

“I don’t know much about this chap,” Ezra admitted.

“No one did, he was quite mysterious. Antisocial, you might say. Didn’t trust people.”

“What exactly did he do?”

“He had a hand in everything: Oil, fast food, weapons. Any industry that could make money. Made a fortune.”

“If he was absurdly wealthy, did he perhaps hire any staff?”

“Yes, he hired an acupuncturist to see him weekly.” 

“That must’ve been Anthony’s way in. Goodness knows he likes playing a part. And very easy to disguise a needle if you’re already poking him with hundreds of them.”

“Good, let’s go back and brief the rest of the agents on everything that’s happened.”

Frances led him out, and he was feeling rather unsettled, “You never explained what you were doing with Anthony in that prison. And what exactly is going on between you and Lucy? Who does she work for? God, who do you work for?”

She turned on him, with cold menace, “What exactly happened in Anthony’s flat? Why is he so interested in you? And why are you so interested in him? See, it’s not so fun the other way around.” 

Ezra shut his mouth.

“Let’s go. You need to find him, before he finds you first.”

***

How Anthony ended up walking out of the hospital in an old lady’s pink dress, she wasn’t quite sure. But it worked. And she was on her way to see him.


	10. Chapter 10

Anthony found her way to a town square. She wandered around, trying to seem nonchalant and nondescript. The stab wound was throbbing, it had been a full day since she was on any kind of pain killer and since it had been properly washed or disinfected. She ignored it. The show must go on, after all.

All she focused on were the people. One woman stared with sympathy, _there_. 

She put on a sweet Scottish accent, “Excuse me miss-”

“I don’t have any spare change, sorry.”

Urk. Maybe not. A few other people pulled away from her, and she thought, _do I really look that bad?_ Suddenly, someone was tapping on her shoulder. 

An older man with a suspicious face glared at her, “R. P. Tyler, neighborhood watch. What exactly are you doing, sneaking around a respectable town such as this, young lady?”

“Oh, would you help me?” Anthony croaked, “Please, urm, Mr. Tyler was it?”

He was taken aback, “Is this a practical joke?”

“No, no not at all, this is very serious.”

“Well, I’m here to keep the neighborhood safe. What is it you need help with?”

“You see this?” Anthony pointed to the mark left by the cricket bat, “My father did that. I-I can’t go back home, I’ve nowhere else to go. Please.”

R. P. Tyler softened. He’d read about cases like these, and the last thing he wanted to do was be a bystander when some poor woman was in danger, “I’ll… I’ll help you.”

And with that, Anthony was invited into the man’s home. 

***

Ezra’s coworkers weren’t especially pleased to see him back. They’d surely heard about him disobeying orders. He felt disheartened at their glares, until he spotted Newt bringing in some coffee. 

“Newt, a word?”

“Alright. Mr. Fell, are you okay? You look a little-”

“Come with me.”

“I’d heard you’d been fired. Are you sure you’re alright-”

Once they were away from prying ears, he broke down, “Listen. I found Anthony.”

“What?” 

“I found him, and- and- I stabbed him.” Ezra began to hyperventilate.

“What- Stabbed- Is he dead?”

“Not sure. Dear God, you’re my only friend here. What should I do?” He begged the young man.

Newt thought he was quite underqualified for this sort of thing, he just delivered coffees, “Well… I don’t know! Does anyone else know?”

“No, no one else.”

“Then, don’t say anything! Don’t tell Frances that’s for sure. She’d have your head.”

He patted Newt’s shoulder, “Right, right. Thank you, dear boy. Oh God.”

“C-calm down, Mr. Fell. It’ll be okay.” He said, though not quite believing it, “It’ll be okay. Go on to your meeting. I’ll bring you tea.”

He walked into the meeting room, pulling himself together after his minor breakdown.

“We’re ready whenever you are.” Michael stated.

“Right… Here’s everything we know. The assassin Anthony, formerly known as Crowley has escaped punishment for years now. He’s psychopathic, creative, and very good at acting. His handler was a woman called Lucy Morningstar. Anthony… shot her dead in a crowded restaurant.”

“Sloppy,” Uriel chimed in.

“He was desperate. He had no other choice.”

“There’s always another choice than murder.”

“He _felt_ he had no other choice. And now he’s missing, his flat has no trace of him, and I suspect it won’t be long before he kills again.” 

After the meeting, Ezra spent his time googling for news updates, any news story containing the word ‘stab.’ There were a surprising amount of things to sift through, but none of them contained anything resembling ‘an assassin was found dead in the streets, stabbed in his abdomen, and we know it’s you that did it, Ezra.’

He finally came across a missing persons report, filed by a hospital close to Anthony’s flat. _Missing: Man with severe stab wound. _He was admitted into hospital, then disappeared the next day without checking out. The description certainly matched. 

Thank God, he was still alive. At least, he was the day before.

***

Anthony examined her stitches in the bath. It had been turning an ugly colour, and swelling up a bit. It was already starting to become infected. She didn’t bring any medicines with her from the hospital; she wasn’t thinking clearly. 

She dried herself off and wore the old dress that Tyler had given her. Why he had a dress hidden away in a cupboard, Anthony didn’t ask. But from the pictures on the mantle, it seemed like he might have had a wife at some point, though there was no sign of her around now.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you, Mr. Tyler-”

“No bother at all.”

“I need some antibiotics, could you pop to the shop and get some for me?”

“What on earth could you need those for?”

“I-I get sick very easily,” She started coughing softly, “I think I’m starting to get bronchitis, and I need them-”

“What you need is rest, Jane. Hottie bottie?”

“What?” Anthony sneered.

“Hot water bottle… ?”

“Oh, no thanks.”

Of course Anthony had to pick the most annoying man in existence. 

She was led back into bed, relenting only because of how tired she was. The whole time she rested, she felt herself grow weaker. Time was starting to move strangely for her, simultaneously moving very fast and slow. The wound was looking worse and worse every time she checked on it. She started to grow very cold and shivery.

The next time he brought in a meal, Anthony was practically begging, “Mr. Tyler, please. I need you to stop by the pharmacy, I-I’ve written a list.”

“Let me see. Antiseptic, painkillers, antibiotics… Someone’s a hypochondriac.”

“I need them!” 

“Oh all right. I’ll see what I can do.” Tyler said, stroking Anthony’s hair. And his little dog began to growl. 

***

Ezra paced around his office, something wasn’t right. He examined the crime scene photos once again. Something was different from all the other murders. Azrael had been found dead with no external marks. Nothing. It was too subtle, too quiet, too boring. 

Anthony had left his mark on everyone else he’d killed, post-mortem. He wanted to be known. But this one was just a blank canvas: not a single drop of blood was spilled. He wasn’t found until hours later so Anthony should have had plenty of time to do whatever he pleased, but he didn’t. 

“It wasn’t him.” Ezra murmured, “There’s a new assassin.”

He just had to find some proof when he interviewed the family.

***

“Do you have a TV?”

“No, I don’t want that rubbish anywhere near me.”

“Urghh, I’m so bored,” Anthony said, shivering, “Have you gone to the pharmacy yet?”

“Just stop bothering me about that. It doesn’t matter. You need to rest with that fever of yours.”

Anthony decided that she’d had enough of this guy stalling, “I think I need to leave, thank you for letting me stay…” She tried to sit up, but felt extremely dizzy. Tyler pushed her gently back down, and she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

***

“_This_ is where we’re meeting them?”

“Ezra do please be more tactful.” Frances chided. 

“It’s just- they’re the kids of a multi-billionaire, and they want to meet us at this little pub?”

A thin man approached them, with a blank face, “Surprised, are you? This was our father’s favorite place to go for a drink. He loved the pub trivia.” He held out his hand. “Raven. These are my siblings. Carmine and Chalky.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” Ezra shook his hand.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” 

Chalky was smoking, dropping ashes everywhere as they led Ezra to their booth. The three siblings sat on one side, while Ezra and Frances sat opposite. 

“So, you have something to say about our father?” Carmine asked.

“I’m afraid so. We’ve got… bad news.”

“What, has Dad died again?” Raven sneered.

Carmine hit him, “Shut up, Raven. Just spit it out.”

“He was murdered.” 

The three siblings exchanged a look. “No.” Chalky said, “He had a heart attack.”

“We all saw the records.” Carmine added.

“We think that someone may have induced a heart attack. Likely it was an assassin disguised as an acupuncturist. Now, do you recognize this person?” Ezra pulled out Anthony’s mugshot.

They all shook their heads. 

On the way out, Ezra whispered giddily, “I _knew_ it.”

“We don’t know anything yet,” said Frances.

“It’s not him. It’s someone new! Oh gosh, how exciting. Anthony will be _furious_.

***

While Tyler was out, Anthony changed her bandaging. It was only looking worse. And that idiot still hadn’t gone to the pharmacy. This place was full of red flags. Time to leave.

She tried opening the door, but curiously it didn’t unlock from the inside except with a key. All the windows were shut tight. They even had bars over them, ‘to prevent burglary’ Tyler had said. She began to dig through the kitchen drawers, but there was hardly anything sharper than a butter knife. She really was stuck here. It was time for drastic measures.

She found Tyler’s old-fashioned phone and frantically dialed the emergency number for the organization.

“Hello, what can I do for you?”

“It’s me, please, I need-”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have anyone who can help you.” and they hung up. _Shit,_ they were still mad about Dagon. _Shitshitshit_. She was all alone and R. P. Tyler would never let her leave until she died. The infection was growing stronger every minute she spent waiting around here. She closed her eyes and realized she had one hope left.

She dialed for an operator, “Connect me to MI5. Now.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t-”

“Just do it. Tell them I’m going to bomb parliament. Do it.”

The line quickly changed to a robotic voice, “_This is the number for MI5. Please clearly state the name of the person you wish to contact._” Then a beep.

“Ezra Fell.”

“_Please clearly state the name of the person you wish to contact_”

“Ezra… Fell…” 

“_Please clearly state the name of the person you wish to contact_”

“EZRA FELL YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” 

The front door began to unlock, and Anthony quickly dropped the receiver. She almost doubled over in pain but flopped down on the couch just as Tyler was re-entering the house. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He stared coldly at the beeping phone, “Who were you trying to call? I thought you said you didn’t have anyone?”

“I-I don’t.”

“Are you taking advantage of my hospitality?”

“No, God, no. I would never dream-”

Tyler tore the phone off the wall, and stormed out. The red flags were only increasing.

***

Ezra was pacing around the meeting, “This new assassin, they’re quiet, they’re discreet. They blend in. We need to look for someone average, someone who doesn’t look like an assassin.”

“So, we’re focusing entirely on this new person?” Sandy asked.

“Well, no - not entirely. Anthony is still out there. We still need to find him.”

“But how will that help us with this case?”

“Well- well surely he’s still worth investigating, right? He… he might know something about this new assassin. Maybe he’s met them?”

Frances knocked on the door, “Ezra, a moment of your time?”

She played the message. Anthony’s voice came out of the phone: “Ezra Fell you piece of shit-” 

“Can you trace the call?”

***

R. P. Tyler cornered Anthony.

“Who were you calling?” 

“No one, I-”

His voice slowly rose to a full-on rage, “Don’t lie to me. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Pretending to be an innocent little girl so I’d look after you. Batting your eyelashes, sitting pretty. What do I get, huh? I’m protecting you, I’m feeding you, I’m sheltering you, and what do I get? Nothing! Do you think anyone else would have picked you up, Jane? You owe me your life. So tell me: who were you calling?”

“I-I wanted to surprise you. I was going to order you a - a - a cake! To thank you!”

“Oh… oh… a cake?” He leaned forward, letting his guard down, “Oh, Jane I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. What must you think of me?”

Anthony smiled, “I think you’re going to die.”

She kicked him in the stomach. He doubled over and swore before lunging towards her. She tried to dodge, but her body wasn’t moving as fast as she needed. He tackled her, making contact right where she was wounded. She cried out as he fell on top of her. The dog began to yap around the two of them. She kicked him and kept kicking him, but he wouldn’t budge. His hand started closing around her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her kicks started to grow weaker, vision grew blurry. “You ungrateful little-”

With the last of her strength, she grabbed a glass off the low coffee table and smashed it on his head, sending pieces of glass flying around the room. He was knocked off for a second, and Anthony scrambled to her feet, wheezing. She began to run, but he grabbed her ankle and knocked her onto her stomach. 

He began to crawl towards her. If it was a fight of brute strength, he had the advantage and would quickly kill her. She was weak, sick, and could barely breathe from the pain in her stomach. But… she found a weapon. Her hand enclosed around a big shard of glass, which quickly became slick with her blood. She spun around and struck him, relishing in the indignant look on his face as he bled out. _Motherfucker_.

Anthony unlocked the door, and limped out, almost tripping when the dog ran through her legs. She looked down, and saw that blood was oozing all over her dress. The fight must have broken some stitches. She hissed as she kept pressure on it.

A car pulled up next to her. She opened the door, stepped in.

“I’m your new handler, Bea.” The woman was short, but menacing.

“I thought I’d been fired.”

“Well, lucky old you, head office changed their minds.”

“Erm, no thanks.” Anthony sneered.

“_You_ called us, remember?” She grimaced, “Not a very smart move, calling from an unprotected line. Made the bosses pretty angry.”

“You know what, _Bea_? I’ve had a really shitty couple of days. I really need to see a doctor. And I. Don’t. Need. This.” Anthony made a move to open the car door, but found it locked with no way for her to unlock it, “Let me go.”

“Who do you think you work for?”

“Open the fucking door.” 

She looked insanely bored as she grabbed a fist full of Anthony’s hair and pulled her head back painfully, “You think you can just do whatever you want, don’t you? Well, not anymore. You’re working for me now, and you’ll be kept on a tight leash.” She’d never felt more humiliated in her life. Bea held her for a few more moments before releasing her, “There’s some antibiotics in the glove compartment.” 

She quickly downed a few pills. Bea began to drive away from Tyler’s house, good riddance. But then, another car pulled up and parked in front of it. A police car. Ezra Fell stepped out of the passenger seat and began to march into the house, accompanied by a few others. He’d gotten the phone call, he’d come to get her.

She couldn’t shout, Bea would kill her for sure. So she just leaned against the window and prayed, _please, Ezra, please look this way. Please save me._ But, he didn’t look. He didn’t look, and then he was too far away.

Bea turned on the radio: _ … Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me-_

“For me.” Anthony muttered. 

***

Ezra stepped into the house, and practically screamed. There was a dead body. But not just any dead body, it was still bleeding. 

“He’s still warm.” One of the paramedics stated, “I estimate time of death to be around five to ten minutes ago.”

“Shit.” Ezra shouted, “He was here! He was just here! How could we miss him?”

Frances grabbed his shoulder, “There’s someone we need to speak to. Let’s let the forensic team do their jobs.”

Ezra reluctantly allowed himself to be led away from the house. They got into a taxi and rode across town. Ezra was quite confused when the taxi pulled up in front of a familiar home, “Frances, this is your house, isn’t it?”

She exited the car without answering him, and unlocked her front door. Ezra followed close. 

When the door opened, they were greeted with a familiar face. “Hey darlings.” Lucy said. 

“You’re alive?”


	11. Chapter 11

“Will you have a drink?” Lucy chimed.

Ezra sat down on the couch, “I don’t see why not.”

“Here.” She handed him a scotch, “How are you, Ezra?”

“I feel like I’m going mad.”

Lucy took a sip of her own drink, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“You were dead. What happened?”

“I’m under protection, Frances is letting me stay in her house and she’s protecting my family. Adam believes I’m dead too. It’s- It’s better that way. I’m not even allowed to know where he is.”

“Do you know where Anthony is?”

She shook her head, “You don’t want to know.”

“Of course I do.”

“You don’t. Forget him.”

“I- I can’t.”

“You think he loves you?”

“No - I -”

“You have to understand, he can’t love. Not really. It’s not his fault, that’s just the way he is. His way of showing love, well, it’s not good. You need to get away. You need to make him hate you, before he loves you to death.”

***

Anthony was feeling so much better. He’d had a few days rest, away from Bea thank God. His stitches were redone and the antibiotics were working marvelously. As soon as he felt okay again, he was set back to work. 

It was all too easy to fall back into his old routine. A job, a nice-ish hotel, a payment. And repeat. He checked into his next hotel, and his phone buzzed with a text. It was from Bea:

_Stay in your room_. 

He waited there for about an hour, putting on some makeup to pass the time, before she decided to show up. 

“Hey, Bea.” He didn’t look away from the mirror. 

“How was the job?”

“Boring. Just like you asked for. Looked like an accident.”

“You think that looked like an accident?”

“Why’d you even bother to ask me then, if you already know? It’s like you want me to fail.”

“You don’t need any help from me to fail. Now that there’s the new assassin out there, it’s only a matter of time until…” She ran a finger across her throat in a universal gesture, “You’re not the favorite anymore, Anthony. You better hope that he gets arrested soon, or else you’ll be out of the job.” She took a lot of delight in what she said next, “Might happen sooner than you’d think. Your little Ezra is already chasing after him.”

“No he’s not.”

“He’s not even thinking about you at all anymore, is he?” Bea pouted. 

Anthony scoffed. But the idea began to eat away at him. 

***

Ezra paced around his office, “These new deaths, these businessmen, they were trying to buy pieces of Azrael’s companies. And now they’re found dead in bizarre accidents. This new assassin, they must be involved, right?” 

Michael didn’t look up from her phone, “Are you coming to the office party tonight?” 

“Yes, yes. But the thing is-”

“Great, I’ll put you down for a yes, then.”

He took a deep breath. Yes, a distraction was exactly what he needed.

*** 

Anthony ordered a shitton of new clothes and a new wig. She got all dressed up until she hardly looked like herself. She looked like a prat now, to be honest, which was what she was going for. Like she had a degree in something like economics or accounting. No one would recognize her. She took the tube down to MI5, where facebook said the party would be going on, but she didn’t enter the building, not yet. 

Ezra came walking down the sidewalk, looking beautifully dressed up. Anthony began to follow. He was so close, she could almost touch him. 

Someone put a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, and Anthony could hear, “Excuse me, sir, where’s the nearest tube station?” 

“Right over there, dear.”

“Thank you!” The voice was falsely sweet, and she recognized it in an instant. It was Bea who turned around and made direct, threatening eye contact with Anthony. It was a look that said, _turn around and go back to your hotel, or else… _

What else could Anthony do but leave?

***

Ezra was not having fun. And he dealt with that by getting absurdly drunk. But he’d promised he’d stay, and so stay he did. The party got rowdier all around him, while he drank at a table. 

He caught a whiff of something. He sat up and took a deep breath, but it was gone. It almost smelled like… Anthony. Anthony’s perfume, to be exact. Ezra began to scan the crowd, but he couldn’t find him. He looked back down to his drink and spotted a purse left on the table with angel wing designs on it.

“_Sorry Angel_”

He felt Anthony’s whisper right up against his ear. Ezra’s heart pounded. He turned and there was no one there. But he’d heard it, he’d heard it so clearly and he’d felt it. He felt those lips brush against his earlobe. He was too drunk to stop himself from leaping out of his seat and pulling the fire alarm. 

After twenty minutes of panic, the firemen announced it to be a false alarm.

The partygoers all grumbled and made their way back to their drinks. Ezra stayed outside, and started smoking. He rubbed his face, trying to wash away all the paranoia. And he wondered, what was Anthony thinking about at that moment. 

She was thinking about how much she wanted to reach out and touch his hair. In fact, she was close enough to do that if she so pleased. But she stopped herself. The fire alarm had frightened her, and she came back to check on Ezra. He was fine, thank God, but he might not have been too happy to see Anthony. Not yet. Bea hadn’t stuck around, thinking that her threat would be enough to keep Anthony away. But really, nothing could have stopped her from placing the little blue flower in Ezra’s coat pocket. She smiled and went back to her hotel, she’d done everything she came to do. 

When Ezra placed his hand in his pocket on the way home, he felt something unfamiliar. He pulled out a little wildflower. “How did that get in there…?” It took his drunken mind a few moments to piece things together.

Then he realized: it was a forget-me-not. And he knew, Anthony had put it there. Anthony was nearby. Anthony wanted himself on Ezra’s mind.

***

When Anthony returned to his hotel room, he ordered the most expensive wine from room service, and unpacked the things he’d purchased while he was out. The brown dye in his hair was thankfully beginning to fade away. It was time for a touch-up. He scrubbed his head in the sink, a last attempt to get his hair as blond as possible. Then, he applied the red dye he’d bought. While he was waiting, his wine arrived. He drank it straight from the bottle. 

After the recommended thirty to forty minutes for the dye to settle, he drew a bath. He plopped a bath bomb in the water and let it fizz for a minute while he put a face mask on. When he climbed in, the water began to turn a pretty blood colour. He lay back and relaxed in the heat, drinking more wine every now and then. It wasn’t long before his cell phone began to ring. He had to answer it because it was Bea, “Hey, what’s up.”

“What are all these charges on the room?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Anthony took a gulp of his absurdly expensive wine, “Just the essentials.”

“When the time comes, you’ll regret this.”

“Come on, you love me!” And he hung up by throwing the phone across the room. 

***

Ezra hid outside Frances’ house until she left for work. Then, he approached. Lucy answered the door and was taken aback to see Ezra standing there. 

“Frances just left.”

“I know…Can I come in?”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but allowed him to enter, “What’s this about then?”

“Anthony is nearby. He’s in London. I thought he would have gone off to somewhere far away by now, but he’s here.”

“And you want me to find out where he’s staying?”

“Yes. I-- I can’t stand just waiting around for him to find me, I need to find him first.”

She thought for a second, “What do I get out of this?” 

“I thought you’d ask me that, and well, I did some digging through the office and I’ve found Adam’s location. Frances won’t give it to you but I will.” He pulled an envelope out of his jacket. Lucy’s eyes flashed with hope. 

“I’ll do it.”

***

Anthony returned from a job and heard a footstep from behind the door of his hotel. His eyes widened, and he grabbed for a knife before opening the door. 

Lucy was there. Time seemed to stop. Anthony’s heart seemed to stop. She wasn’t dead.

He ran up and leaped into her arms. 

“Owwww, careful!” 

He held her tighter and nuzzled his face into her neck, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to shoot you!”

“Yes you did.” 

“Yeah… I did. You’re not still mad about that, are you?” 

She patted his head, “It’s okay,” before pulling out of the hug, “How’s life going without me, huh? Did you miss me?”

“Oh, not at all. They have me working for Bea--”

“Bea? Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. She’s great. We get along so well. I love her.” Anthony said flatly. 

“You know what her actual job is? She’s the one they send when things go ary.”

“Meaning…?”

“She’s the assassin for assassins.”

“Nah. I mean, she’s been so nice to me. Unlike you.”

Lucy grabbed his arm, “Come on, we’re leaving, I’ve got a car--.”

“No, I’m not going with you. Last time I did, you left me in prison.”

“_You’re not still mad about that, are you_?” She said mockingly, “Now, come along. The authorities will be here any minute, I’ve told them where you are.”

Anthony huffed, “What?”

“Here are your options: you get killed by the police, you get killed by Bea, or you trust me again and you live. Got it?”

The police began to storm up the stairs, and the situation quickly became clear. Anthony made his choice. When Ezra arrived, he was gone.

***

In an interrogation room back at MI5, Frances demanded to know what had happened, why Anthony hadn’t been caught, why Lucy was missing, why several of her files had disappeared without a trace. Ezra murmured something in response.

“You did _what?_”

“I gave it away!”

“You gave away highly classified information being used to protect the life of a _child_?”

“Yes, it was the only way--”

“You gave that information to a criminal, and you trusted her not to backstab you?”

“For the greater good--”

“Don’t talk to me about the greater good, Ezra! I had good reason to keep that information secret! And now we’ve lost Lucy and Anthony. They could be anywhere in the world by now. I’d almost think that you wanted him to escape.”

“No! That’s not what I want at all.”

“With how many times he’s slipped away from investigators at just the last minute--”

“Are you accusing me of-- of-- of being in cahoots with him?”

“Are you admitting to that?”

“No, dear god, no. I hate him, and I want nothing more than to stop him.”

“Lucy and Anthony have chosen a side. I suggest you do the same. If you want to keep your job, focus on the other assassin. Forget Anthony.”

***

Lucy had a proposition as she drove the two of them away, “Think about it, we’ll be partners. Equals.”

“Partners?”

“Yes, my darling, partners. We’d be the best duo in the business. And we’d be independent, on our own side.” She smiled at him, “You know, I meant what I said earlier; I think of you as my kid.”

“You mean what you said when you hit me with a cricket bat?”

They both started cracking up.


	12. Chapter 12

The whole weekend, Ezra sat in a flurry of papers in his office. He researched himself into a tizzy for 48 hours straight, flicking through the records and pulled out every death of anybody connected to the murdered billionaire. There were so many more than he had originally imagined there would be. Dozens of people by now. Every death made to look totally natural: heart attack, allergic reaction, stroke. But he’d never known one social network to have so many tragic accidents and health concerns in less than a year. This assassin was _good_. In and out of a job like a ghost. No one would have considered any of these deaths suspicious on their own, but taken together there could be no doubt. Ezra knew what he had to do. He was going to catch them, if it was the last thing he did.

He called up Raven to arrange a meeting. Perhaps the family would have noticed something, anything to give him an idea of what connected all these deaths. 

***

Anthony and Lucy met discreetly in a park in Amsterdam. She handed him an envelope, “The job needs to be done by tomorrow.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, “It’s so boring.”

“Make it interesting, then.” She leaned over slightly, “Show Ezra how interesting you are.”

His mind began to buzz with ideas.

***

Raven had insisted that they meet in the nearest Chow, one of the fast-food chains he’d inherited from his father. Ezra didn’t eat in places like this, as a rule, but he would do anything to get this interview. To his chagrin, the man brought out a hamburger and milkshake for Ezra. He took a sip to be polite, but didn’t want to touch it something so artificial.

“So, come to talk about my father again, I see. Have you found the murderer yet?”

“Not exactly--”

“Then why am I even meeting with you?”

Ezra cleared his throat, “I want to ask about your father’s business associates. As I’m sure you know, many of them have died recently.”

“He employed a lot of people, people die.” His body stiffened, “What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, I just want to ask you about--”

“I don’t have to answer any of your questions, please leave my restaurant.” Ezra was quickly shooed out by security guards that appeared out of nowhere. 

Next he met up with Carmine, who was eager to give him a tour of her factory. One that mass-produced guns to sell to any government’s military that could afford it. 

“We were all so heartbroken over his death, you know?” Her fiery hair blazing under the lights on the machinery, face equally bright,“But, Dad set us up nicely. My siblings and I, we don’t always get along, but we really came together to get through this thing.”

“Yes, I can see that. What can you tell me about the attempted purchase of your family’s companies?”

Her face fell, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Many of the aspiring buyers passed away recently…”

Ezra trailed off as Carmine began to lovingly stroke one of the guns passing on the conveyor belts. She smiled up at him again, looking just unstable enough to try something, “What were you saying?”

“Oh, nothing. I’ll be off.”

Lastly, he made a visit with Chalky. Their office was a mess, and they sat with their feet up on the desk, not caring about the state of their muddy boots on the plans for new offshore oil drilling. They picked at their nails, “Any news?”

“I wondered if you noticed anything strange about your father’s acquaintances?” 

They didn’t even look up, “What do you mean, strange?”

“I noticed that many of them passed away recently.”

“My father was old, and so were his friends. Not a surprise really.”

“Everyone who died was looking into buying some of your family’s companies.”

“I’m not the one in charge of all that, I’m too busy dealing with this oil spill, you know. You’d have to ask my brother.”

“I did but--”

“I’ve got nothing else to say.” With a flick of their hand, they dismissed Ezra.

Each one had quickly shut down the conversation before Ezra could get anywhere, in a quite frankly, very suspicious manner. To make things worse, the mysterious deaths kept happening. 

***

Only a few hours left until the job. Anthony was told to prepare. He had followed the mark throughout the city, stalking him, becoming aware of what he was like. He followed the man through a museum for the day, stopping by the gift shop. Meanwhile, one of the postcards of renaissance paintings had caught Anthony’s attention. One portraying the tempting of Eve. Ever since he’d met Ezra, he found himself compelled to return to that motif again and again. But given recent events, it no longer seemed correct. 

Ezra wasn’t innocent Eve anymore, helplessly drawn to knowledge. Ezra was something so much more than that. He scanned the shelf and found a postcard of Judas kissing Jesus, the moment of betrayal. Yes, that’d do nicely. 

He grabbed it and refocused his attention on the mark, who was just leaving the shop.

He was your basic bastard. The whole time that Anthony followed him, he’d been rude to three museum workers, a waiter, and several complete strangers which included the catcalling some young girls. No wonder someone wanted him dead. But as far as Anthony could tell, he didn’t really have any kind of power or wealth. He was just a random arsehole. Ezra probably wouldn’t even hear about his death under normal circumstances. He had to make the death extra special, just for him.

***

Mr. Glozier had spent the entire day out, but for the finale, he would spend the evening in the red light district, as he so often did. He wandered around, window shopping until he saw one who didn’t shy away from his gaze. Someone new. 

He approached her, and she was perfect, vulnerable.

“Kiss me,” She demanded. 

And just like Judas, he began the night with a kiss and ended it hanging with his guts spilled out. For good measure, Anthony placed a bag with thirty pieces of silver below his feet. On her way out, she dropped the postcard off in a mailbox. 

***

While Anthony was dealing with her job, another assassin was working his way through the London businessmen on his list. He calculated the route exactly, each step he would take, every movement, every turn of his mail van, and even every breath. When the time came, he mindlessly executed every part of the plan. Everything was perfectly controlled for. He only became aware again once the job was done. And then he began researching the next one on his list. He was efficient, cold, calculating. And he was damn good at his job. No one notices the mailman. 

***

Frances pulled Uriel discreetly out of a meeting, and Ezra could barely hear what was said to them out in the hallway. It was something about a death in Amsterdam. A bloodbath. 

Ezra confronted Frances afterward, “What’s going on?” 

“You’re so busy with your research, I was going to send Uriel on a trip to investigate a murder.”

“A murder? Does it have to do with Azrael?”

“It has nothing to do with your work. I didn’t want to distract you.”

Ezra examined her face, “You think Anthony did it, don’t you? Look, why don’t I go along--”

“No. Out of the question. Get on with your work, there’s a new folder on your desk. A new murder to investigate.”

Later that day, she burned the Judas postcard she had intercepted from Ezra’s mail. She watched as the words crinkled up and turned to ash:

_My Angel,_  
I hope you haven’t forgotten about me!  
XOXO 

***

Anthony stood at a safe distance from the crime scene. His eyes never left the area surrounded by police tape. He couldn’t wait to see Ezra’s face again. When Anthony called, he always came, he always showed up. 

A police car pulled up to the curb, Anthony’s heart pounded in anticipation.

However, someone who was not Ezra stepped out of the car. Someone far less interesting. They introduced themselves with a monotonous voice to the local investigators. 

Ezra was forgetting. 

***

Ezra was exhausted. 

Late one night Newt knocked on his office door. “Hey,”

He jumped at the intrusion which woke him from a momentary nap, “Hello, sorry about the…” He gestured to the mess around him.

“No problem.” He shifted awkwardly before putting a tea in front of Ezra, “I wanted to check in on you.”

He began to rub his eyes, “Thank you, dear boy. I’m perfectly fine. Anthony is still out there. So’s this other one…” 

“You need to take a break, Mr. Fell.”

“No, I need to keep working, I have to…”

“I’ll buy you a pasty or something.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Come on…” Newt waved him over. 

The pair walked to a vending machine outside a supermarket. Ezra took out a cigarette, Newt looked like he wanted to snatch it away from him. He didn’t though. He was slightly afraid of Mr. Fell, as it turned out.

Instead, he pushed a few buttons, slid a pound coin in, and the vending machine began to whirr. A cheese and onion pasty fell off its shelf. 

“Thank you, thank you…” Ezra said as it was handed to him. 

“I live off these things.” Newt said as he purchased one for himself, “That and instant ramen.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” 

“Mr. Fell, I wanted to ask you something. What’s going on between you and Anthony? Do you really… have a thing for him?” 

“No… yes… I’m not sure,” Ezra leaned his head back against the wall, “I see him in my dreams most nights.”

“What do you dream about?”

He blushed, “I’d rather not say. But I suppose… I do fancy him.”

“And he fancies you back?”

Ezra nodded, “We shouldn’t really be talking about this, I’m supposed to forget him.”

“Maybe it would help if you found someone else to date. Someone nice.” Newt suggested, “I’ve got this friend, I could pass along your phone number.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He fidgeted, “Maybe that would do me some good.”

***

_Ezra had forgotten him._ Anthony wandered through the streets late at night. Drinking. Flipping wildly between anger and self-deprecation. 

_Of course Ezra doesn’t want you, you idiot. You’re not even a good assassin anymore, you’re just a shitty freelancer. You don’t even make enough to buy him good stuff anymore._

_But he has to know that you’d do anything for him, right? He has to know by now. Anything he asked would be his, without question, without hesitation._

_He’s so deluded, that man. He wants to think he’s good, he has to think his side is doing good. So he denies it. He denies that he’s in love with you. That bastard doesn’t even think about your feelings, you don’t deserve that. I mean he stabbed you for fuck sake. _

_You don’t deserve him. You’re not normal. You’ve never been normal. That’s why he doesn’t want you. That’s why he didn’t show up. He’s just like all the others, no one really wants you in the end, right? Leo is dead because of you, do you want that to happen to him? Maybe you do you sick bastard. _

He stumbled around, so drunk he could barely keep himself upright. He spotted a shady man in an alley and he approached him, “D-do you have anything that makes you feel happy?” 

The man nodded and began to pull a bag of powder out of his jacket, he started naming prices.

Before he could hand over the money, Anthony was being dragged away by the arm and thrown into a taxi. Lucy took him back to his flat where he was a sobbing, drunken mess, only semi-conscious.


	13. Chapter 13

Ezra went on a blind date with a man about his age, a writer. Oscar did everything right: he looked good, held the door open, made polite conversation, showed genuine interested in Ezra’s life, and he even encouraged Ezra to indulge in the more expensive menu items. Everything was perfect, so why did he feel so relieved when a work call interrupted the date?

“I’m so sorry, we’ll get together some other time!” Ezra promised as he darted out of the restaurant doors to head to MI5. 

The call was informing him that a suspect had been taken into custody, and they suspected he was the mysterious assassin. He was only captured by a complete stroke of luck. The mailman, careful as he was, got into a car accident on the way to his next job. When a variety of toxins spilled out of his car, he was quickly handed over to Ezra’s department for questioning. 

“That’s him?” Ezra peered through the one-way mirror at the stone-faced man being interrogated, “Somehow I thought he’d be… different.” 

“That _might_ be him.” Michael corrected, “We still haven’t managed to get a single word out of him. No confession, no alibi, nothing.” 

“Sandy’s been going at that for a while, I presume,” Ezra watched as the man shouted in his face, slamming his hands on the table, doing everything in the intimidation handbook, but the suspect wasn’t even blinking, “It’s almost like he’s not here. Mentally, I mean.” 

“You got that right.” 

“He hasn’t even moved. I thought he’d be a bit more… interesting to look at. You know, someone I could write a paper on. He’s an assassin for God’s sake, how is he so boring?” 

“Not everyone can be as interesting as you-know-who.” 

Ezra tapped his foot, “I think I can get him to talk.” 

“You’re welcome to try, Ezra.” 

Sandy was recalled, and Ezra sat himself down in front of the man. “So… hello.” He smiled brightly at the suspect, “It’s unusual, isn’t it? Your methods I mean. No guns, no suffering… Not many assassins are so kind.” 

His mouth opened for a moment before a small voice came out, “Not so unusual.” 

“Oh. So do you perhaps know anyone else who works like you?” 

He didn’t respond, so Ezra picked a new angle, “Do you know an Anthony? Or perhaps a Crowley…?” 

His face finally shifted to one of fear, for just a second before it went back to the flat expression. That was all Ezra needed to see to know: he knows about Anthony, he is scared of Anthony, so Anthony would be the only one able to break open the package. 

He proposed this to his coworkers. 

Sandy sneered, “Yeah, we’ve been chasing after him for months, how are we going to suddenly find him now?”

“Uriel, you said he’s working in freelance now? So, we simply put out a hit on me. He’ll come find me, and I will convince him to work for us.” Ezra was pacing around the room. 

“You’re insane,” said Sandy.

“He’s a psychopath, you can’t be sure that he’ll listen to you,” Michael added.

“It’ll work. I can do it.”

***

Lucy sat down next to Anthony on a public park bench, but she didn’t look him in the eye and she tapped her foot anxiously. 

“Finally, you arrive! I was waiting for ages and ages and ages--”

“Your new job,” She handed him an envelope. 

“What brand of scumbag do I get to kill next, huh?” He opened it up and a little photo of Ezra fell out onto his lap. Anthony froze, “You’ve-- you’ve got to be kidding me. Did you do this? Is this a joke? It’s not very funny--” 

“Not a joke,”

He shoved the photo back in the envelope, “No, no, no, no. Absolutely not.”

“What’s wrong? You had no problem shooting me.”

“When will you get over that? I said no, I’m not doing it!” 

“I know it hurts now, but you’ll get over him in a week.” She stroked his cheek, “There’s plenty of men out there, my darling.”

“I’m not going to kill him.”

“You have to.”

***

In order to make the plan work, Ezra had to continue life like normal, so as to not arouse suspicion. Ezra was on his second date when he got the first sign of Anthony. The restaurant they were planning on going to was unexpectedly closed, so Ezra invited him up to his flat. They were in the middle of a discussion of his next crime novel when the doorbell rang.

“Excuse me one moment,” Ezra got up off the couch. When he opened the door, there was a small box placed on his doorstep. Inside was a pair of little golden cufflinks, in the shape of angel wings. That was good, Anthony was close. Ezra put the box in his pocket before returning to the conversation, “But the motivation doesn’t make sense, my dear. Your antagonist is an average psychopath, correct? It’s not that they hate everyone, it’s not as though they can’t have relationships with people--”

“You’re telling me I have to rewrite everything? I did so much research for this story,” He chuckled.

“Yes, and I did so much research for my doctoral thesis. Next time you write a character like that, you come to me first. Drink?” 

_Did Anthony see them together? Was he jealous?_

They got particularly drunk that night, and Ezra felt the closest to normal he had felt in a long time. That is, until the end of the date. When they bid farewell, Oscar began to lean in just like Anthony had done when Ezra--

He gently pushed him away, “That’s too fast. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, I can go slow. I really like you, Ezra.”

“Likewise.” Ezra responded, closing the door on him “Goodnight, then.”

As soon as he was out the door, Ezra examined the gift that had been weighing down his pocket the entire evening. They were beautiful, though he would have expected nothing less. 

After the cufflinks, MI5 started to prepare Ezra for when Anthony would show his face. He was to wear some sort of body armor under his clothes at all times, which Ezra thought was particularly pointless. 

“I don’t want him to see me like this. It makes me look rather… bulky, doesn’t it?”

“No different than usual,” Sandy said. 

“If I look like this he’ll realize it’s a set-up. And it won’t do any good if he decides to go for my neck anyway.”

Sandy sighed, “It’s regulation. The rules say we have to get you to wear it.”

“But no one will know if I take it off, will they?” Ezra said, more to himself than anyone else. 

He didn’t take it off that day and just continued his work in while looking slightly off. Later on, he encountered Newt, who was glaring at him in the hallway, “There’s been rumors.”

“I don’t know what you could be talking about,” and he tried to push past him. The intern grabbed Ezra’s arm, not even needing to ask the question. “Yes, alright. I’m going to meet him.”

“You… you _stabbed_ him.” Newt whispered, looking over his shoulder, “And no one else knows about that.”

“It’s none of their business,” Ezra responded, matter-of-factly. 

“I didn’t tell anyone because I wanted to help you. But if you don’t tell them now… I’ll have to.” 

“Look, if you don’t like what I’m about to do, then I’m afraid you’ll have to quit.” 

“But your safety--”

Ezra’s tone grew more severe, “I am your superior, after all. One word from me and I can have you fired. Or at least moved far away to a different department.”

“You’d sack me?” Newt looked hurt, “You can’t--”

“I can. Now run along.”

***

Anthony was done crying. The time had come. He somberly slipped on an entirely black outfit with a veil, as if he were becoming a widow. He slowly packed up everything he needed and walked to Ezra’s flat.

***

Ezra was waiting around anxiously the evening Anthony was expected to strike. He’d removed and replaced the body armor about three times that evening. He kept thinking that maybe it would make him feel less nervous, but it didn’t. He realized it wasn’t the safety issue that was making his body react, it was something else. When his doorbell rang, he wasn’t wearing it. He answered the door, and Anthony shoved his way past him into the flat, wearing clothes fit for a funeral. 

“Don’t do anything stupid,” He growled.

“May I take your veil?”

“Nah, but you can get me a drink.” He said, already making his way to the kitchen.

“Of course, as long as you don’t mind if I join you. Very nice to see you, by the way.” 

Anthony paused at this, and spun around, “You don’t seem very surprised.”

Ezra shrugged, “I’m not.”

“And you don’t seem very scared.”

Once again he shrugged, “Based on our last rendezvous, maybe you should be more scared of me,” And he poured two glasses of red wine, handing one to Anthony.

He stared into the glass, “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Ezra took his own drink, “I don’t know if that’s possible, my dear boy. I think about you all the time.”

Anthony flipped his veil over his head, and drank the whole glass in one, “Is that so?”

Ezra stepped closer, and lifted a hand to Anthony’s face, touching him ever so slightly, “Do you still think of me?” 

“I never stopped, angel.”

“Good, good.” Ezra pulled away, “Now, I need your help.”

“You what?” 

“We’ve captured an assassin and we need someone who--”

“You know I’m here to kill you, right?”

Ezra was unfazed, “Oh, yes. It was my idea.”

“_What?_” He slammed his glass on the counter. 

“I needed your help--”

Anthony threw his head back with a groan, “How can someone as clever as you be so stupid!”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Ezra! What if I shot you? What if I snuck up on you? What if I hit you with a car or pushed you off a building--”

“Oh, you wouldn’t.”

“I could have killed you!”

Ezra rolled his eyes, “I think we’ve established that, now will you help me or not?” 

Anthony rubbed his face as if considering, but the answer was already decided the moment they met. He stepped up close to him and threw his hands all over Ezra, locking eyes and holding his gaze steady, “Anything you want, angel, ask me for anything and it’s yours. Your wish is my command.”

They took a taxi to MI5, and while they didn’t speak, their pinkies brushed together too often to be accidental. When they arrived at Ezra’s place of work side-by-side, Frances sent Lucy a text: 

_I told you it would work_.

***

The next morning, Anthony was briefed on the assassin. Ezra held a hand on his lower back as he led him to the interrogation room. Anthony stopped him before he could open the door.

“Um, Ezra… Are you sure this is legal?”

“Why would that matter to you?”

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

“The upper management approve of what we’re doing. It’s all rather practical, you see. We get the answers we want, and MI5 has no blood on their hands.”

“Pfft. A bit late for that now, isn’t it?” Anthony shot him a smirk.

“Oh, please. Stay here and wait for my signal.” Ezra unlocked the door, and made his way inside. The suspect sat on his chair, blankly, he hadn’t moved from where he was before. 

“We’re giving you one last chance.” Ezra said in a serious tone, “Tell us who hired you to kill Mr. Azrael and all those other businessmen.”

He didn’t answer.

“It’ll be easier if you tell me now.”

He still didn’t answer. 

“Alright then,” He snapped his fingers, and Anthony sauntered into the room. Ezra made his way to the door.

“You’re not going to watch?” Anthony asked. But Ezra left without a word or even a glance, “Oh that’s right, no blood on your hands.” 

Ezra closed his eyes outside and waited. A few minutes passed. Then a few more. Eventually, Anthony left the soundproofed room, looking slightly shaken up, “I -- er -- I got it.”

“Tell me.” 

“His kids. Classic, really.”

Ezra took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, “His kids, huh. I wonder why they would bother, they were already insanely rich. I mean the dad makes sense, but all those other potential buyers? They must have wanted more than they inherited, all the things that would have gone on auction had they not--”

“You know, a thank you would be nice.”

“Right.” He quickly nodded, “Thank you. You’re free to go.” And he left, murmuring to himself.

Anthony felt sort of used. 

***

“Oscar, right?” Anthony sat himself down next to the writer’s table in the cafe.

He looked up, confused, “Do I know you?”

“I’m a friend of Ezra’s. Well, more than a friend, really.”

“Hey, he told me he was single.”

Anthony spoke sweetly, “You have to check these things, Oscar. You have to be careful.”

“We’ve only been on a few dates, it’s no big deal. We haven’t even kissed.”

Anthony wrinkled his nose, “Oh, you better not go any further then. He’s a stabber, that one.”

“You’re joking--”

“He seems so innocent, right? But nope, not a joke. Not a euphemism either, he really did stab me on our first kiss. Like, with a knife.” 

Oscar stared at him with shock, “Are you…” 

“Don’t worry about me, it’s all water under the bridge. I’ve completely forgiven him for that. But there’s something else I just cannot forgive. See you later, Oscar.” And he left, hoping that would be enough to scare him off.


	14. Chapter 14

Ezra flagged down Frances in the hallway, frantic because she hadn’t shown her face around his department for a few days. Ezra felt his orders growing stagnant since they found out who ordered the hits. This should have been the time when things were ramping up, “Why haven’t the siblings been arrested yet?” He demanded, “When will that happen? They need to be put behind bars--”

“They have a lot of influence and a lot of money. If we don’t play this right, they’ll get away with it, and they’ll keep assassinating anyone who questions their power.”

She tried to dismiss him, but Ezra was dogged, “How do we get to them, then?”

“They’re extremely paranoid, they don’t keep friends. The only people they trust are each other. It’s not as though we could just get someone to waltz in and join their inner circle, they’d see right through it before we even sprung the trap.”

“They are human though, presumably. Everyone wants to feel desired in some form or fashion, it’s just a matter of finding the right person.”

She shot him a glare, she knew what he was going to say… 

“Anthony could do it.”

***

“Hey partner,” Anthony sauntered into Ezra’s office and sat on his desk, “I heard you wanted to hire me again.”

“Yes, I did. Thank you for coming back.”

“Of course, no problem, no problem at all. Who do you want me to kill or torture or--”

“No no. None of that.” Ezra fluttered a dismissive hand, “I need your acting skills.”

“... What? No one’s ever-- You do know what my job is, right?”

“I know how convincing you can lie when you need to. And I need someone who can really play a part.”

“A part?” Anthony was trying to roll with the punches, but Ezra kept dropping new surprises on him.

“Yes. We need someone to infiltrate a family of billionaires. Get into their inner circle, you know? You’d be making friends with this woman,” He handed over a picture of the red-head, “Carmine. You’ll be meeting her during her group therapy. She seems the most trusting and approachable out of the three siblings.”

“Right.” Anthony nodded at the photo, “I can do that. What sort of part do you want? Oh! How about…” He quickly changed posture, accent, and demeanor, sighing dramatically, “I’m a rich kid who lost my father as well, I came here from Denmark just to get away from it all. And I can’t decide whether I want to go on living…”

“What’s his name?”

“Hamlet.” 

Ezra gave him a shove, “Take this seriously.” 

“Alas, poor Yorick!” Anthony shouted before tumbling off his desk. 

“You know…” Ezra considered, “acting in a manner that she can relate to could work. So, your father is dead and you’re rich, but you’d have to also be naive and indecisive so she still feels like she can manipulate you. And you’d have your issues with suicidal ideation to make you seem vulnerable… that might be perfect, actually.” 

“So, I’m doing Hamlet?”

“Come up with a different name, but yes, essentially. I was once told you played him well. Now come along, we need to get you briefed.”

The other members of Ezra’s team were very serious people, and they told Anthony about his very serious job. He couldn’t break character, not even for a second. He couldn’t kill any of the siblings, not even one. He was just on evidence collection, making sure the case against them was watertight so that no amount of money could get keep them out of jail. He was given a bottle of Prozac, which contained microphones in the shape of pills. 

He shouted excitedly that he felt like James Bond, which was not appreciated by the MI5 team, who all turned to look at Ezra. He elbowed Anthony, who was still beaming excitedly over the gadgets he’d been given, and whispered, “Focus, my dear.”

Anthony responded with such delight, “No pet names during a meeting, angel! It’s all very serious stuff.” He turned to the rest of the investigators, “Can you believe him?”

They stayed stiff-lipped. He didn’t much like them.

The next day would be the first time that he would attend Carmine’s group therapy. Anthony got dressed in a bathroom stall in MI5, while Ezra stood watch outside. Or, he was supposed to be standing watch. Instead, he was drawn into his phone, which Anthony frowned at when he finally came out of the stall. 

“Waiting for a text?” 

“Yes, well-- there’s someone I’ve just started seeing. I’m not quite caught up on the rules of courting, but… it’s been a few days without a word. Look, I even sent him a nice message.”

“Nice? That’s not you, Ezra.”

“Oh, stop with that--”

“You know, I’ve taken a look at him and I think he’s too normal for you.”

“Of course, you know all about him already, don’t you?” He rolled his eyes, “Being normal is admirable. It’s actually quite a lot harder to be a decent, normal person than it is to be like you.”

“Like _us_, you mean.” 

“No, I don’t mean that. Hurry up, or you’ll be late.”

“I think my character would be a little late, don’t you? So we still have time if you want to--” slipping ever closer to Ezra.

“Go on, Anthony.” He shooed him out of the bathroom.

“It’s William now, remember?” Anthony was already slipping into character. 

***

“My family just irritate me so much,” Carmine ranted, “My siblings and I are supposed to be working together, and we just end up arguing all the time. And I just want to punch them. And then they make me go to therapy for longer. I hate it and I wish I weren’t here.” She ended by crossing her arms in a huff. 

“Thank you, Carmine, I know it’s hard to keep up therapy, but it’s worth it.” The therapist spoke in a soft, contained tone, “Would anyone care to respond? How about the new member of our group?”

Anthony gave a look around the room, and stated flatly, “Hey everyone, I’m Will. I-- uh-- I can really relate to what Carmine is saying. My family fucking sucks too.” He gave her a sympathetic look, “They always say, like, why can’t you be normal and decent and nice? But it’s a lot harder to be like that then to be like… well, like me.” He said, knowing Ezra was listening over his wire, “And anyway, I don’t see what’s so admirable about being normal.”

“I totally get what you mean.” Carmine smiled at him from across the room. 

The therapist interrupted, “What makes you say you’re not normal?” 

“I mean, would you say someone’s normal and nice and decent if they hurt the ones they love? If they manipulate them?” _If they stab them?_ he added in his head, “Yeah, I’ve got a friend who is absolutely head-over-heels for me, and… I use him. He’ll give me anything I ask for. And I know exactly what I’m doing, too” He wished he could have seen Ezra’s face.

“You seem to have a lot of self-awareness. Why do you do it, then?”

“I can get stuff out of it. You know, it’s not a bad deal, all I have to do is lead him on a bit. And I never intend on going any further, I just tease and tease and tease and give him hope. But the worst is, I mean the real worst part is that I don’t even feel bad about it. I should feel bad about that if I were a normal, nice, and decent person, right? Wouldn’t you agree?” 

A few of the other members of the group began to nod slightly, and the therapist jumped back in, “Let’s put the self-deprecation on hold--”

Carmine’s spoke up, “Your friend is participating in this arrangement of his own free will. If he hates it so much then he should grow a pair and say no.”

“Well--”

“And you’re not obliged to do anything just because someone has feelings for you. That’s his problem.”

“I mean--”

She smiled, clearly enjoying dissecting his mind, “We’re not talking about a ‘friend,’ aren’t we? We’re talking about you--”

“That’s enough.” The therapist butted in, “Please, Carmine, be respectful. I’m so sorry about that, Will.”

She sat back in her seat, satisfied. The group continued without another word from either of them. Carmine approached him after the group had disbanded, “You’re like me.”

“We’re both redheads?” 

“We’re passionate. I don’t see what’s so admirable about being normal either. It’s just something some people made up to make themselves feel good.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Would you want to hang out sometime?”

Anthony practically cheered, “I would love to. Give me your phone.” He quickly put his number into her contacts list under the name of Will, “There you go,”

“I’ll text you later then.” She said with a grin. 

Anthony met up with Ezra after the therapy session, who wouldn’t even look him in the eye, volunteering instead to stare into his coffee. 

“What you said in there… That’s not what I’m doing,” He stated.

Anthony crossed his arms, “Oh really? You’re not as good at lying as you think you are. It’s a good thing I’m doing this bit and not you.”

“I don’t intend to take advantage of you, Anthony.”

“I’d like you more if you admitted that you deep down, you’re really quite a bastard, instead of acting all holier-than-thou.”

Ezra grew angry at that, “I am actually a great deal holier-than-thou, Anthony. We’re not the same at all.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” 

“You need to stop going off script and bringing me into this. You’ve got a job to do, so take it seriously. Lord knows if this goes wrong, I’ll end up dead in a ditch somewhere.” 

“Anything you want, angel.” Anthony sighed, “Anything for you.” His phone began to buzz, “Look, I’m doing my job! I’ve got a text from her already. And don’t worry, I’m great at texting. I’ll be invited over for dinner before the week is up.”

“Until then, you need to study your part.”

Anthony spent the rest of the week with his nose in his phone, constantly sending messages to Carmine who was texting back with just as much fervor. Ezra spent the rest of the week panicking, and trying to drag Anthony away from his phone so that he could read the briefing materials and get his story straight with the falsified records that MI5 was creating. 

“Hah! I got invited to a family dinner!” He shouted out of the blue, “I told you I could do it.”

“Wonderful, when is it?” Ezra asked.

“Tonight.” Anthony began to text something back before Ezra snatched the phone out of his hands, “Wait, I have to say yes to her.”

“Tonight is so soon, we need to get ready right now.” Ezra checked his watch, “My dear boy, we only have a few hours. We’re woefully unprepared, we need to inform everyone else and get the microphones ready and --”

“Hey, hey, hey, Ezra.” Anthony put his hands on Ezra’s shoulders, “Take a deep breath. We’ve been preparing for this all week; it’ll work. Just gotta have a little faith in me, yeah?” 

Ezra put one hand over Anthony’s, “Alright,” and gave him back his phone. 

***

Anthony sat at one side of a table, with the three siblings on the other side, looking over him like hungry vultures waiting for their prey to finally keel over. 

“So… Will. What do you do?” Raven asked while picking at his food. 

Anthony shrugged, “You know, this and that. Odd jobs.”

“Not much of a career. Oh, but you do have a degree, don’t you?”

“Nope.” he replied, “Dropped out.”

Raven turned to his sister, “You make such great friends, don’t you?”

“Be nice,” She hissed back at him.

“I couldn’t decide what I wanted to be,” Anthony took a sip of wine, “I don’t think I have the patience to do anything close to what you three have done.”

Chalky who hadn’t taken their eyes off Anthony the whole dinner, dropped a piece of pasta on the floor, “What do you think we do?”

“You know, running huge companies.”

“I never told you what my siblings did for work, Will.” Carmine looked incredibly pleased with herself. 

_“Careful.”_ Ezra buzzed in his ear.

Anthony fumbled slightly, “Oh, didn’t you? Must’ve read about it. Yeah, that’s right, I read an article about you three. Richest family in Britain, isn’t that right?” 

The three of them exchanged a wordless glance. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” Anthony asked. 

“Down the hallway, third door to the right,” Carmine responded. 

_“Look for an office. Anywhere where they might keep important files and such.”_

Anthony wanted so very much to scream, _I know what to do_. But he couldn’t drop cover. So he gritted his teeth and slipped into a room which was not the third door to the right. He found himself in some sort of library, where he vaguely began to poke around at the books on the shelf before a throat-clearing pulled him out of his search.

“That’s not the bathroom,” Raven said, leaning against the doorframe, “What are you doing here?”

“Just being a bit nosy,” Anthony replied.

“Don’t.”

_“Careful, Anthony, be careful for God’s sake.”_

_For God’s sake, have a little bit of faith in me,_ he thought in response. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not as interesting as you think you are. This stuff’s all boring.” Anthony pointed to the shelf, “I’ll, er, I’ll be off to the bathroom then.” He pushed past Raven. That got him a strong scolding from Ezra, and he was tempted to flush his earpiece down the toilet.

When he returned to the dinner table, all the siblings were in the same place they were in before, clearly waiting for him.

“Hey guys.” Anthony said when he sat back down, “Did you miss me?”

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” Raven began, “But I’m not buying your little act.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” said Carmine.

“I’m not acting--” Anthony could barely think with Ezra shouting in his ear. The level of noise in the dining room quickly rose too.

Raven got up and circled the table, towering over Anthony. “You know, you’d be so easy to get rid of with your history of suicide attempts. No one would question it.” The fake hospital records had worked, then.

“Are you threatening me?” Anthony rose out of his seat.

“Hey, you two--” Carmine warned. 

“Sit down,” her brother warned, “both of you.”

Chalky, meanwhile, sat and enjoyed their food, watching the fight unfold. 

Anthony poked a finger in Raven’s chest, “Don’t talk to us like that.”

“You don’t know who you’re talking to--”

“Yes. I do.” Anthony wrinkled his nose, “You’re a bully. You’ve been going at me all evening.”

Carmine began shouting at him in one ear to stop, Ezra shouting the same thing in the other ear. So he spoke to both of them at the same time, “I know how to deal with bullies, have a little faith in me.” They fell silent. 

“How do you, as you say, deal with bullies?” Raven asked amusedly.

Anthony punched him in the nose. “Like that,” And he immediately stormed out of the house. 

_“That’s it, you’ve ruined it.”_

“No, I haven’t.” He whispered in his microphone to Ezra. Carmine was running out after him.

“Thank you so much. It really was about time someone’s done that. I enjoyed having you over; you _have_ to come back soon.”

“I’d love that,” Anthony said. 

On his way back to MI5, he let all his pride and smugness show. But this bravado crumbled to dust when Ezra grabbed his hand and said, “Well done.”


	15. Chapter 15

Ezra charged into Anthony’s new London flat the next morning, only to find her snoring, her hair tousled by sleep. He was struck by how sweet and peaceful she looked, but he couldn’t linger on that thought for he had things to do, “Wake up, time to get to work.” 

Anthony groaned, “Too early…” 

Ezra checked his watch, “You should be up by now… how late did you stay up last night?”

“Don’t wanna work,” she buried her head in the pillow.

Ezra huffed, and yanked the blanket off her, only to be greeted by far too much bare skin, “Oh, good Lord.” At least she still had her underwear on. 

“Hey!” Anthony shouted, grabbing a robe hanging on his bed’s headboard, “You can’t just do that. I’m not decent!” 

“Yes, well, you should have been ready for me.”

As Anthony tied the cord of his robe she murmured, “If you wanted to see me undressed all you had to do was ask.”

Ezra turned around and took a deep breath. He slowly removed his scarf, and let it drop to the ground limply.

Anthony sensed something was wrong, and she sat up at the edge of the bed “Hey, angel? Are you okay?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I do not.”

Anthony poked him, “You’ll feel better if you do.”

Ezra sat down on the bed next to her. He clasped his hands together. “Do you really think that I am… using you?” 

Anthony shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t”

Ezra paused for a moment, “And you’re… in love.”

Anthony folded her knees up to her chest, “As if you don’t know already.”

“I -- I was told--” Ezra gulped, “I was told that you can’t love.”

“Well, I do.”

“Head over heels, as you put it?”

“Yes,”

“Right then. I’ll… I’ll have to consider this.” He put the folder he’d been holding next to Anthony, “Here. Your next assignment with Carmine. Get yourself invited to their trip to Rome. I’ll be off now, I’ve got to get back to the office.” And he left Anthony quite alone.

To her surprise, an unknown number texted her phone,

_I apologize for my behavior. Let me take you out for dinner tonight.  
-Raven_

Ezra was going to be jealous when she told him about the invitation.

He arrived at the fast-food restaurant as Will, dressed a little too fancy for the occasion. He greeted Raven outside, and he showed them to their table. The whole place was empty except for them, “I’ve had it closed for today,” was Raven’s explanation.

“This is yours, isn’t it?” Anthony asked.

“All mine. I’m deeply sorry for my behavior towards you the other night. You have to understand, I have good reason to be suspicious. Anyone who tries to befriend my siblings or me might just be in it for the money.”

“No, no I get it.”

“We’re in this for each other. Family comes first.” Raven added. 

“Family comes first,” Anthony agreed.

“But, Carmine likes you. Worse, she trusts you. Chalky is fascinated, and frankly, I’m impressed.” 

“Impressed?”

“No one stands up to me except family. And, now… you. Look, I know you’ve only known the three of us for a short while, but you fit in with us. We’re going on a trip very soon, and we’d like you to come along with us. Come with us to Rome.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes, “Why?”

“Why not?”

“Last time we met you threatened to kill me. Is that just your way of flirting?”

He cracked a smile for the first time. And Anthony agreed to the trip.

When he returned to the flat, he checked on his phone that he felt buzzing the whole time he was at the dinner. His phone had blown up with texts, all from Ezra:

_Call me when you’re done.  
-Ezra_

_Let me know posthaste if you are alright.  
-Ezra_

_Anthony, are you safe? Let me know.  
-Ezra_

“When I’m not with you, think of me always” Freddie Mercury’s voice serenaded on Anthony’s phone, and he felt such a warm feeling in his chest.

***

“Tell me, Ezra, how is Anthony doing?” Frances asked.

“He’s doing quite well, I’d say.” Ezra played with phone in his pocket, wanting so very badly to see how Anthony was doing himself.

“Are you keeping him in check?”

“I’d say so. His symptoms of psychopathy aren’t flaring up, he hasn’t been showing any unusual signs of aggressiveness or possessiveness. He hasn’t been as impulsive either.”

“You must remember you can never keep someone like that under control for long. Any sign of instability and the project is to be called off.”

Ezra nodded, “Right.” People hadn’t stopped saying that to him since he started working with Anthony, but he wasn’t so sure if it was true.

“And how are you doing?” Frances questioned pointedly.

“Er, how am I--?”

“Any signs of aggressiveness, possessiveness, or impulsivity?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t know what you mean by that--”

“And how much of the day do you spend thinking about Anthony?”

“Not-- not much. Just work-related,” he lied. He hadn’t been thinking of anything else.

“Good, then. You better get ready for your trip. You know the details: you’re going to be staying in a hotel across from Anthony’s, you’ll be listening to his microphone the whole time but strictly no contact. And I hate to be strict, but he’s not to kill anyone. Got it? Make sure he knows that the three siblings are sure to have cameras on him at all times from the second he lands in Rome.” She lowered her voice, “And Ezra, be careful.”

***

Lucy showed up at Anthony’s flat with a suitcase, “Here’s all the supplies you’ll need, clothes, toiletries, passport and such. You remember how these microphones work, right?” 

“Course.”

“What’s that?” She pointed to the small bag sitting on Anthony’s bed. 

“Nothing--” But she was already picking it up, opening it to find a few weapons of choice. 

“You know you’re not supposed to kill anyone, my darling.”

“Yes, but--”

“If something goes wrong, you and Ezra will be stuck there alone. He’ll be in danger.”

“I know, I know.”

She gave him a suspicious look, “I hope you aren’t planning anything.” Before she took the bag away.

***

Anthony and Ezra took the same taxi to the airport, and gave each other one final look before heading on their separate flights to Rome. They took separate taxis to their separate hotels. Anthony wondered if Ezra could pick up his heartbeat in the microphone. He had an audience that day: Ezra would listen to him for the whole trip. Anthony was already missing his voice, but also he thanked God that Ezra wouldn’t be nagging him the whole time. 

But the three siblings would also be listening too, for sure. The hotel would be bugged with cameras and mics. 

He looked around his room. He had stayed in countless hotels and apartments over the past few years, but none of them were anything close to this. It was huge and gorgeous, and it was all for him. He explored a little, opening the closet. It was full of very expensive clothes, all his size, all his style. He knew this trick. 

He lay down in the silk sheets, loving the feeling against his skin. He was about to fall asleep when the hotel phone began to ring. 

“Come outside, we’ve got a surprise for you.” Carmine said quickly before hanging up. A car was waiting to take him to a very expensive-looking restaurant. The three targets were there, with the best table already booked. 

“You must try the oysters. They’re simply to die for.”

“This wine is delightful, we got it especially for you.”

“I hope you enjoy your new clothes. If anything doesn’t fit properly, we’ll have it tailored.”

Gifts were foisted on him from every angle; proper gifts that one would expect from someone as rich as them. And he loved it. He loved every indulgence and every luxury given to him. Anthony had thought that he had a lot of money before, but now he truly realized what real wealth looked like. 

When he went back to his room, he thought of how much he would have loved to share all this with Ezra. And he spoke out loud, knowing that he was so close and he was listening, “How are you enjoying Rome? I’m liking it a lot. Thank you for taking me here. I miss you already,” before falling fast asleep.

Ezra heard all this. He remembered everything Anthony had told him, that he would do anything Ezra asked for. The first day of their plan was coming to a close without much progress being made at all. He mused that maybe it was a mistake, maybe this would be too much for Anthony. But, he had to have faith.


	16. Chapter 16

“Good morning” Anthony whispered to the empty room, and to anyone who was listening, on either side. He sauntered out of bed and got changed into some of the fancy new clothes. Soon he was invited to eat out again.

His lunch with the siblings was more intimate that day. They came around to his hotel room with a feast. Anthony was chugging down the wine he was offered, so he was a bit tipsy when he said, “Gotta say, I love being spoiled like this. Why are you doing all this for me?”

Raven dabbed his mouth with his napkin, “Before our father died, he taught us to follow the rules of tit for tat. We’ll help you, and hopefully, you’ll help us.”

“How did your father pass?”

“We had him killed.” 

Ezra jumped in his chair in his hotel room as he heard this. He listened for a few more seconds and tried to work out what was happening from the audio. There was a suspicious silence except for a scuffle of silverware.

_“We know who you are, Anthony.”_

“Oh, fuck.” Ezra murmured. His stomach dropped. Anthony was in danger. This was a terrible idea, of course they would figure him out, of course. He was in danger and it was all Ezra’s fault. 

He had to save him. Ezra scrambled out of his seat and threw his headphones down. Loaded a gun, the only protection afforded to him. He ran across the street to where Anthony was if he was still alive, Ezra thought grimly. He pushed past anyone in the lobby, not caring at all, and came across the elevator. He pushed the buttons frantically, but the elevator just wouldn’t open.

“Fuck,” He gave up with that. Ran up the stairs to the door where Anthony was staying.

He carefully pulled his gun out, and practiced brandishing it for just a second before kicking the door down. Ezra charged into the room, shouting “Stop, it’s over!”

Instead of finding Anthony dead or injured or threatened in any way, he was sipping wine, staring wide-eyed at Ezra’s dramatic entrance. 

“Ezra Fell?” Carmine tilted her head, “The pathetic MI5 agent?”

“You know, I didn’t think you would be capable of pulling off a scheme like this,” Raven spoke. 

Chalky said nothing, but got out of their seat. They strutted over to Ezra. He was ordering them -- more like begging them -- to stop moving, to hold their hands up, to freeze. This did nothing to stop them from snatching the gun out of his hands and shoving him down onto his knees. 

“Work for us.” Chalky turned to Anthony, keeping a tight grip on Ezra, “Kill people for us.”

Raven added, “We understand you better than anyone else. We know you’re a psychopath.”

“It takes one to know one.” Carmine smiled, “We’ll share our wealth and power with you. You can have anything you want.”

“Anything… I want?” Anthony paused, starting to sound tempted by the idea, “Did you hear that Ezra? Anything I want.”

“Don’t listen to them, Anthony, they’re trying to--argh” He gasped as Chalky pulled his hair to shut him up.

“We’ll take care of you. We know you’ve never had a real family, never had anyone who cared. But you’re very welcome to join our family. He’ll never be able to, you know. Never be able to take care of you. Not like we can.” Raven said.

Carmine whispered in his ear, “You know what you have to do? You just have to kill him, then we’ll give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

A smile grew on Anthony’s face, and he nodded. He walked over to Chalky who’s outstretched hand offered Ezra’s gun. He accepted the weapon and took a second to feel its weight. His gaze turned to the teary blue eyes below him. The ones that made his knees feel weak. 

He was going to have everything he ever dreamed of. 

He shot the gun. He shot the person who dared to touch a hair on his angel’s head. And turning around, he shot Carmine and Raven who dared to ask him to kill Ezra. They were still in shock at seeing Chalky collapse to the ground, and within a second they too lay bleeding, dead. 

It all had happened so fast, the two of them struggled to catch their breaths. Anthony looked in the gun and saw it was out of bullets, before he dropped it to the ground, “Well then… you’re lucky I didn’t miss.”

“D-do you have _any idea_ how much trouble we’re in?” Ezra shouted.

“It’s fine, let’s just get out of here.” Anthony grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.

“No, I’m not leaving.”

“Not leaving-- Ezra! You can’t just be standing around here when they find the bodies!”

“I -- I just need to get the recordings from my hotel room. All this-- this can’t have been for nothing-- there needs to be-- be justice, there needs to be proof.”

“Leave it.” Anthony hissed.

“No.” Ezra was firm, he held onto Anthony’s arm. He looked him in the eye, and Anthony couldn’t say no.

“Oh… fine. I’ll find a car that we can use, and I’ll be outside your hotel in five minutes. But, be quick. Come back to me.”

“I will.” Ezra said. He squeezed Anthony’s hand for a moment before they separated once again.

Ezra ran up to the hotel room, panicking slightly, only to find it empty and scrubbed clean of any evidence that he was there. And Frances was standing in the middle of the room.

“What happened? Where’s all the evidence?”

“Oh, all the recordings have been picked up. You’re being sent back to London.”

“But… they’re dead.”

“Yes. It’s unfortunate, but no one is too sad to see them go.” She said rather quickly.

“You certainly don’t seem too choked up about it.” All the trouble he had imagined, all the shouting and firing and legal issues, none of it was happening. It was all wrapped up very cleanly, suspiciously clean, “You-- you wanted them dead, didn’t you?”

“I told you not to kill them. Many times, in fact. But it can’t be helped if a well-known assassin snuck up on them while you were busy being incompetent at your job. I think things all worked out for the greater good, wouldn’t you agree? No blood on our hands, for one thing.”

Ezra said breathlessly, “No blood--? He was working for _us_. You can’t have-- you planned it like this all along? We’re supposed to be the good guys.” 

“Come now,” She stood.

“We have to go get Anthony.”

“No.” She said firmly, “You can’t be both on our side and his side, you have to choose. I’m giving you a chance to get away from him before you wind up dead. Come on.”

His hand curled into a fist, “I’m not going back to London. I-I choose him.”

She was taken aback, and she took a second to collect herself before falling back into her usual professional demeanor, “Well then… that is disappointing. You don’t want protection, fine. You’re on your own. I suspect it won’t be long before the law catches up to you.” She began to walk away, before adding, “And don’t be foolish enough to think that he’d choose you too. He’s already long gone. Goodbye Ezra.” 

She quickly moved out of the hotel room, leaving Ezra alone with his thoughts. _He wouldn’t leave me,_ Ezra thought, _I know he wouldn't_

He began to pace around the room as the situation became clear. He was set-up to take the fall for whatever happened to the siblings, and Frances had expected that they would be killed. He just lost his job, again. He’s in a foreign country where he doesn’t speak the language. And now he’s putting all his trust in a violent psychopath. 

No, he corrects himself, he’s putting all his trust in Anthony. 

A few footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Heavy menacing steps, as if the person was stomping around in boots. Not the light and quick steps of Frances. He paused his pacing, and heard the steps coming ever closer. Whoever it was began to unlock the hotel door. 

He willed himself to move, and to stash himself away in the closet, where he could just see an unfamiliar figure enter the room through the slats in the door… 

***

Anthony tested each of the car’s handles to find any that were unlocked until he heard a cough from behind him. He spun around to see Lucy next to a nice Italian car. 

“This one’s for you. Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait, wait, we have to wait for Ezra to get back.” 

“No. He’s going home, Anthony.”

“No, he’s not. He’s going to come back--”

“You have to leave him--”

“No, I’m not doing that!”

Lucy rolled her eyes, “Did you know Bea is in the city?”

“So?”

“So… I’m saving your life. Again, I might add. Now, come on, we have to leave now--”

“If she’s here then why hasn’t she killed me yet?”

“She’s on her way now. She had orders to wait until you finished your job before she could finish hers.”

“But-- finish my job? I didn’t do my job, I killed them… I wasn’t supposed to do that, that wasn’t the plan.”

“Wasn’t it?”

The realization crashed down on Anthony, “You lied to me. This was all a fucking set-up, wasn’t it?”

“Ezra’s already gone with Frances, he’ll be on his way to London by now--”

“No, he wouldn’t-- he wouldn’t leave without me.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re the same!” Anthony shouted, “I’m going up to his room to fetch him. He’ll be there waiting for me!”

“Fine, you want to get killed? Go ahead, see if I care!”

“Go home to your son. Your real son, okay? Be there for him and stop pretending as if I mean anything to you.” He spat over his shoulder.

“I will. Goodbye Anthony.”


	17. Chapter 17

He went up the stairs of the hotel. _Fuck, what was Ezra’s room number again?_ He hadn’t read the file carefully enough. But as he walked along the halls, one door was propped open just slightly. Anthony pushed it all the way open. Inside, Bea was lounging on the couch, wielding a literal sword by her side. 

“Bea,” he said in a falsely cheerful tone, “What an honor.”

“Crowley.” She snarled, “It’s about time I executed you,”

“A sword is kind of overkill, isn’t it?” 

“Not for you, it isn’t.”

“Oh, you really didn’t need to make such a fuss.”

“This is where you are to die. It’s kind of perfect actually: Ezra’s room. You still have your little crush on him?” She pouted mockingly.

“Don’t--”

“But where is he? He’s not around here. Although… maybe I’ve killed him already.”

Anthony saw red, he threw a fist at her face, which she caught, twisting his wrist back. He shoved and kicked to escape. The sword was knocked out of her hands, and it clattered to the ground. She flew into a rage and tackled him down, yanking on his hair and pulling him into a chokehold. 

“Let--go--” he hissed.

“He was so scared when he died,” She said, “And you weren’t there to save him.”

She didn’t look like it but she was fucking strong. Her arm around his neck was immovable when he tugged at it. With a groan of frustration, his elbow slammed back, making contact with her ribcage, and throwing her off balance for just a second. 

Anthony tried crawling away from her, too winded to get to his feet. He heard his shirt tear as she used it to lift him to his hands and knees, before throwing him down onto the bathroom floor. A second later she was lifting him up again.

His head was smashed against the wall before she tossed his limp body into the bathtub. He hit his head hard against the bottom of the tub, letting out a strangled gasp. Bea climbed on top of him. He opened his eyes for one second before cold water was pouring over his face. Bea was smiling, holding him down, and he just couldn’t breathe. He thrashed against the woman on top of him, struggling to throw her off, but her grip tightened. 

His body was screaming for air. His vision was fading. He couldn’t fucking breathe. And then his eyes refocused over Bea’s shoulder… 

He tried to pull his head out of the water for one second to call out, but Bea threw him down, relishing in his struggle. He pulled his head up again, just managing to spit out, “Do it,” before being shoved against the porcelain. 

“Let go of him.” Ezra shouted, “Or else-- I’ll have to--” He held the forgotten sword up high and threateningly.

Bea laughed, not turning around, “You think he can save you?” She buzzed in Anthony’s ear, “He doesn’t have it in him.” 

Ezra wasn’t shaking. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were wide. His knuckles were white around the handle of the sword. He saw Anthony’s face in pain, heard him trying to cough, but instead gulping down even more water. His struggling getting weaker by the second. 

“You underestimate me.” 

He thrust the sword into Bea’s back, pushing it almost all the way to the hilt. He looked shocked and stunned for a second. And then he pulled it out, pulling Bea off Anthony in the process. Blood splattered all over the white-tiled bathroom, Bea made a horrible groan before falling backward. Anthony quickly scrambled up and turned the tap off. Coughing and heaving up water. Bea was draped over the edge of the bath, the water rapidly turning a dark red. 

The sword clattered to the ground. Ezra backed out of the bathroom, holding a hand over his mouth. Anthony quickly followed. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” He pulled Ezra’s face away from the body, and pleaded with a hoarse voice, “Look at me.” 

His watering, bloodshot, golden eyes were shiny with admiration, “Oh, my angel. My guardian angel. I thought you were dead, but you saved me. You’re so goddamn amazing.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Ezra said.

“There’s no time for that, we need to leave. Oh my God, you actually killed her. _With a sword._ Fucking wow, angel.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--”

“You saved us both.” He ran a hand through Ezra’s hair, “I’m so proud of you. Oh, my darling angel.”

“She was going to --”

“She was going to kill me.” Anthony finished his sentence, “It was her or us. But it’s okay, we’re safe now. You’ve made us safe.”

“We’re not safe, Anthony.”

He put an arm around Ezra’s shoulders, steadying himself as much as he was steadying Ezra, “You’re absolutely right. Come on, let’s go.” He gave one look back at the body and smiled. They led each other out of the hotel.

Ezra was fading away. His face blank as they made their way out to the street. He kept hearing the shouts, Anthony being hurt, seeing the little glimpses of the struggle through the closet door. He held on tight to his arm, hearing him whisper, “Come on, this way.” and barely feeling the bump of all the crowds of people around them. 

“How did it feel, Ezra?” Anthony hissed in his ear, grounding him in the moment “You said you wanted to know how I felt when I killed someone, so how did it feel?”

“I-I don’t know.” He looked like he might throw up, “I was so scared for you.”

Anthony pulled him into an alley alone and embraced him, “Hey, don’t worry. It’s okay to feel weird. I felt weird the first time too, but it gets better. Trust me, okay?” He massaged Ezra’s back, and loved the feeling of his arms around him, “Shhh, I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you, and you’ll protect me. Fuck everyone else.”

“Honestly…” He pulled out of the hug, looked up at Anthony, “It felt good. It felt good and that makes me sick.”

“I told you that we’re the same.” Anthony leaned his face in close, “That’s how I got started on this whole thing, you know? Protecting someone I love.” 

“You did, didn’t you?” Ezra breathed, and cupped a hand on Anthony’s cheek, “That’s what makes you different.”

“And you returned the favour. That’s what makes you different.”

They struggled to breathe in the alley, refusing to let go of their grip on one another, refusing to look anywhere but each other’s eyes. 

“Love…?” Ezra began.

“Yes. You were protecting someone you love.” Anthony pressed himself ever closer to Ezra.

“I - I suppose I was.” Ezra said, and Anthony’s heart practically flew out of his chest, “So, what now?”

“Let’s go off together,” Anthony whispered urgently, desperately.

“Oh, we can’t,”

“I’ll take you anywhere in the world, anywhere you like.”

“I’m not sure my side would like that.” Ezra broke his gaze away for just a second until Anthony gripped the sides of his face. 

“You were fired, remember? We’re on our own side now-”

“Anthony - ahh,” Anthony had buried his face in Ezra’s neck, kissing him gently at first, but quickly moving to a frenzied pace, encouraged by the gasps of the man losing control under his touch. Ezra shivered as Anthony began to bite at his earlobe. His soft skin felt so bloody nice to sink his teeth into. 

“Anthony - please -” Ezra begged. 

“Anything you want, angel.”

And that ignited something in Ezra, “I want you. Oh God, I want you right now.”

“You have me.”

And Ezra kissed him back. Kissed him more and more, needing him to be closer. They went completely mad, both of them falling into each other, tangled up in each others’ arms. They were stars colliding into each other after so long floating through space on their own, just trying to make things work. But now, they couldn’t escape each other even if they tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was totally ready to finish this and move on to a new series I'm working on, and then I suddenly got a burst of inspiration for how to continue it. I can't promise it 100%, but maybe sometime I'll post more. Thank you for reading :)


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